


like we on screentime

by honeyoolong



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu trolls ppl online, Comedy, Fluff, Game streamers, Kiyoomi actually takes it seriously, M/M, Osamu has a mukbang, Voice Kink, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28562445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyoolong/pseuds/honeyoolong
Summary: miya atsumu, the top haikyuu.tv streamer, gets dethroned by a nameless faceless man with a deep voice.he's not even mad about it.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 150
Kudos: 626





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title comes from kiana lede's only fan.
> 
> this will have sexual content later on, just as a warning.

Miya Atsumu is the hottest streamer of the year, the internet’s current “it boy.” He hadn’t expected to blow up that much himself. Just a few years ago, he was only uploading videos of his volleyball matches and some reviews of volleyball equipment here and there. Occasionally, he would post a guitar cover or two—that was what got the most views at the time—but his original love was his volleyball videos.

It was only after Osamu started making it big that Atsumu started streaming himself. Who knew people liked to watch Osamu stuffing his face? All his life, Atsumu had to watch Osamu do that _for free_ , and people out there were actually _paying_ for it. It really blew his mind. He had to beat Osamu at his own game—make his own stream even bigger and _better_. But he wasn't going to film himself sitting in front of a camera and eating, and he couldn't exactly stream his volleyball matches either, so what was he supposed he do?

Suna came over to visit the next day, and over lunch, casually mentioned an online game he was playing. Atsumu, competitive as ever, sat down to play it immediately, and that was when the light bulb went off in his head. He created his first stream that day, even going out of his way to share the link to his Youtube subscribers. That first stream had maybe ten viewers. One of them his mom. Two of them, his old high school friends. The rest, surprisingly, from his Youtube channel. He just played games casually on his stream, nothing pro-level, much to some viewers’ chagrin. In fact, Atsumu preferred to just troll people. He liked joining random parties with his girl characters and flirting with other players for rare items. It was a hit or miss most days, but he got better and better at it each time.

One day, he interrupted Osamu’s _mukbang_ stream to promote his own channel, and the rest was history.

So aside from his mom and his select Youtube subscribers, it was Osamu’s fans that took him up the chart, curious to see Osamu’s twin who, as Osamu said, “is like me but a thousand times more obnoxious.”

About a month later, Atsumu’s popularity skyrocketed. In his defense, he didn’t know that the player he trolled was a famous streamer. He just saw a warrior with a crazy high DPS and thought about having some fun. But suddenly, Atsumu became the talk of the town for seducing “bigboybokuto” with his slutty necromancer, and his subscriber list has only gotten bigger since.

Yeah, he is the hottest streamer right now, haikyuu.tv even sending him a golden plaque to commemorate it, but he quickly gets dethroned by a faceless, nameless account that everyone lovingly calls _kabikiller_. This is the fourth time his subscribers keep mentioning it, talking more about the guy than about Atsumu himself. Even today, they can't keep that name off of his chats, his subscribers chiming in repeatedly on his latest live, telling him that he’s _got_ to stream with this new guy.

> **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** can u imagine foxymiya n kabikiller playing together omg  
>  **ilovecatboys2000:** FOXYMIYA CAN YOU PLS PLAY WITH KABIKILLER  
>  **letsgodateko:** are u kidding me they’re gonna go at each other’s throats  
>  _> > bokhooto subscribed to your channel!  
>  _**onigiri4life:** NOOOO i want him to play with osamu first  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** PLSSSSS foxymiya   
>  _> > whatdoesthefoxsay13 gifted you +500 balloons!  
>  __> > ilovecatboys200 gifted you +100 balloons!  
>  _**kabikisser00:** foxymiya is going to DIE. kabikiller is SOOOO :drooling face:

Atsumu was just about to end his stream but he can’t ignore it now, especially not after they gifted him some balloons.

“Okay, okay, geez, you guys really want me ta play with this guy, huh?” Atsumu asks, laughing into his headset. Various rows of “YES PLEASE” pop onto the screen, and Atsumu realizes there’s no going around it. “Alright, I promise ya I’ll reach out ta him, but if ya guys can do me a favor and tell him how awesome I am, that’d really help me out a lot.”

More and more balloons come in, and Atsumu gives his viewers a dazzling smile.

“I’m gonna end it here, I’ll see ya guys next time!”

He waves at the camera and then ends the stream.

He breathes a sigh of relief when it’s done. And then he sits up, checking online to make sure Hinata and Bokuto aren’t streaming before reaching out to them, telling them to hop on voice chat.

They come on within a few minutes.

“Atsumu-san! I saw your stream! It looked like you were having a lot of fun—” Hinata keeps rambling unprovoked and Atsumu just lets him talk, knowing that there's no stopping him when he gets like this.

Bokuto’s voice comes in too, tinny through the mic. “YEAH although I don’t know why you switched that weapon right there, I would’ve just—”

“My weapon choice was fine!” Atsumu cuts in. “I know what I’m doing, Bokkun~”

Hinata starts consoling Bokuto and Atsumu huffs because he called them here _for a reason_. They always get so carried away, existing on another wavelength altogether.

“Have you guys heard of some streamer called ‘kabikiller’?”

Bokuto just hums, thinking for a long time, but Hinata chirps, “Ooh! I know him! I’ve played with him once!”

If Hinata played with him, he must be bigger than Atsumu thought.

“So what’s the deal? Why’s he so popular ‘nd all?”

“Hmm… well, his voice is very— hm… and he speaks very…” He keeps trailing off, not answering Atsumu’s question at all. If Hinata wasn’t so adorable Atsumu would have lost his temper already, impatient as always, but instead all he says is a mild, “Shouyou-kun, can you please use yer words?”

He can hear the little frustrated noise Hinata makes, annoyed at his own inability to explain. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to say it! I don’t know anything about him and he doesn’t show his face and he didn’t tell me his name either... but I can see why he’s so popular.” There’s a rustle coming from Hinata’s end, Hinata nodding emphatically with each word.

“Maybe you should ask Kenma? He knows most streamers!” Bokuto adds on.

Atsumu feels weird asking him though, since he’s never interacted with the guy before. Kenma was a pro player, not like Atsumu who just dabbled in different games for the hell of it. He doesn’t know much about Kenma other than the fact that he has a rich sponsor who pays for him and that his subscribers always send him a bunch of cat merchandise.

“How’d ya even meet ‘im anyway?” Atsumu asks.

Hinata says eagerly, “He just reached out to play one day and I said yes!”

Atsumu holds his face in his hands and sighs in disbelief. Did Hinata have no sense of self-preservation? The guy didn’t even show his face!

“Shouyou-kun, can ya please be more careful next time? Isn’t he a stranger? What if he’s a stalker of yers, huh?”

Oblivious, Hinata responds, “He’s not like that! He seems like a nice guy.”

Atsumu just groans. How did someone like Hinata make it this far in the streaming community, he doesn’t know.

“If you want, Atsumu-san, I can reach out to him for you!”

Atsumu thinks to himself for a minute. He was going to have his subscribers do that for him, but it might sound better coming from someone like Hinata. kabikiller seemed like a private person after all. Atsumu doesn’t know how the guy managed to get popular if Hinata hasn’t even seen his face yet, but there's definitely a reason behind it and Atsumu wants to find out himself.

“Hm, can ya do that for me, Shouyou-kun? It’d take a load off of my shoulders that way.”

“Even better!” Hinata chirps. “I can set up a day where we all play together!”

That’s probably the best idea since he wouldn’t know how to stream and play with a guy he’s never met before.

Hinata arranges the date and time by the end of the day, and Atsumu takes to Twitter to tell his followers too. He mentally prepares himself for next Saturday, hoping that he doesn’t rub the guy the wrong way.

Saturday quickly approaches.

Atsumu likes to arrive fashionably late, the way he always does, and today he’s repping Osamu’s “Onigiri Miya” T-shirt to remind his subscribers to follow his brother’s channel (Osamu owes him for this one).

kabikiller doesn’t come on yet so they start the stream without him. They’re playing an MMORPG today. Atsumu hasn’t played this one yet, but he’s quick to learn and his subscribers like seeing him play new characters anyway.

He’s still on the character screen, in the middle of creating a female mage. Atsumu laughs as he scrolls through the physical traits, choosing the characteristics that makes her look as curvy and sexy as possible.

> **onigiri4life:** ONIGIRI MIYA REPRESENT!!!   
>  **tangerinehinata** : omg vitaminhina chose a dwarf as his race im crying ;;;;  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** foxymiya making a female character ONCE AGAIN  
>  **kabikisser00:** where’s kabikiller :(  
>  >> _karasunope has subscribed to your channel!  
>  _**catsumuk1n:** can foxymiya STOP catfishing  
>  **bokhooto:** came here from bokuto’s stream

Hinata’s voice comes through his headset. “Sorry guys! He says he’ll be on in a minute.”

“He’s scared of meetin' me, isn’t he? It’s not every day ya get to play with a celebrity like me.”

“Here we go again,” Bokuto says, cackling into his mic. “Hinata, tell ‘im we’re at the starter town!”

“Oh! Oh!” Hinata chirps. “He’s on! Hi kabikiller-san!” Hinata waves at his webcam even though the guy likely can’t see it.

Bokuto waves excitedly too, shouting out a series of hey’s that nearly bursts Atsumu’s eardrums.

kabikiller doesn’t reply. His profile picture that pops up isn't of him but of some… fan art? Atsumu’s not sure. But even the drawn picture doesn’t have its face fully shown, bottom half of it covered with a black face mask.

“Nice to meet ya,” Atsumu drawls. “Hurry up and log onto the game so I can kick yer ass.”

There’s some rustling coming from the guy’s end, but still no response, so Atsumu feels the need to egg him on, asking, “Cat got yer tongue?”

A few chimes sound as his subscribers gift him balloons, laughing as they see Atsumu’s character attacking the air with her measly starter weapon.

Just then, kabikiller’s character appears at their location. He’s likely played the game before because he’s decked out with exclusive gear from head to toe, the armor all black, suiting his character. It seems to be a human warlock class, its staff large and heavy, black flame effects trailing off of it. Was this guy loaded or what? Atsumu’s pretty sure he bought the armor and weapon skins with cash.

“Ooh you look so cool!” Hinata shouts excitedly. His character stabs at the warrior with its shabby dagger, dealing absolutely no damage.

“Hey.”

It’s just one word, but Atsumu’s stomach flips when he hears it, the guy’s voice low and husky, reverberating deep in his chest. He stares at that cartoon picture open-mouthed until he realizes he’s currently streaming and his subscribers are seeing in live-time Miya Atsumu getting flustered over a “hey”.

> **kabikisser00:** HES ON HES ON HES ON  
>  **tangerinehinata** : hinata-san did u pick a ninja class??  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:…** WHAT  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** oh my god  
>  **catsumuk1n:** holy **** his voice is so deep  
>  **kabikisser00:** KABIKILLER I LOVE U SO MUCH!!! IM WATCHING BOTH STREAMS  
>  >> _whatdoesthefoxsay13 has gifted you +500 balloons!  
>  _**catsumuk1n:** this is the first time i’ve seen foxymiya shut up  
>  **kitaismycaptain:** ^ have u seen the stream with kita?  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** IM LAUGHIGN IS MIYA BLUSHING?????????  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** SAY SOMETHING FOXYMIYA!!!!!!  
>  **karasunope:** LOOOOOOOOOOOL

“KABI KILLER!!!! This is Miya-san and Bokuto-san,” Hinata says, his character hopping around the screen.

“Who is who?” the voice asks.

Shit. Atsumu regrets buying such a high quality headset because he can hear that voice vibrate around him, making his hands shake. He never thought he would have something like a voice kink, but after hearing the guy talk, Atsumu can’t deny it. His skin is prickled with goosebumps.

“Bokuto-san is the warrior and Miya-san is the mage!”

“You chose the class with the skimpiest clothes, didn’t you? Charming.”

Atsumu’s brain stutters for a second but then he regains enough composure to spit back, “That’s what I’m famous for, didn’tcha know?”

He gets a snort in return.

Aren’t streamers supposed to be nice and cordial to each other? Especially in front of their viewers? This guy didn’t even say anything like a “nice to meet you” before he started roasting him, what’s his deal?

“Killer-san, let me add you to the party!”

kabikiller’s character is level 110, decked out in buffs and rare gear. Atsumu usually isn’t threatened by these kind of guys, too casual of a player to care that much, but seeing that all-black shadowy warlock tower over his own character makes him grind his teeth.

“Ya made of money, Killer-kun?” He draws out his words teasingly, doing his best to provoke him.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll buy you a weapon.” He says smoothly in return, unfazed by Atsumu’s comment.

Ah, shit, that voice should be illegal.

> **nekogirlsx3:** is kabikiller flirting???  
>  **catsumuk1n:** LDKFJS kabikiller is giving foxymiya a run for his money  
>  **letsgodateko:** I SAID THEY’RE GONNA GO AT EACH OTHERS THROATS  
>  **letsgodateko:** the stream barely started and LOOK WHAT HAPPENED  
>  **karasun0pe:** lmaooooooo i can’t get over foxymiya’s face whenever kabikiller talks  
>  **whatdoesthefoxsay13:** kabikiller’s stats are crazy damn  
>  **kokokomori:** what did i miss

Atsumu usually likes to read the chat during his livestream, but he knows that he’s the butt of the joke right now so he doesn’t even dare look at his second monitor. It’d be easier if he’d be able to see kabikiller’s face, to see what kind of expression he’s wearing, but the only thing he sees is that cartoon picture staring back at him. It’s really unnerving.

Hinata yelps, eyes sparkling as he says, “I want one I want one!”

Atsumu isn’t won over.

“I don’t need yer damn weapon,” he spits back. “I’ll just flirt around for my own,” he says with a dramatic sniff.

Bokuto laughs, bright and loud over the mic. “Whatcha gonna do with a rare weapon at your level huh?” He keeps cackling, having fun at Atsumu's expense.

Hinata's little dwarf character hops around Bokuto’s giant warrior, looking like a tiny jumping flea, and Atsumu decides this is a good time to steal the show. He removes his starter clothes, leaving his character buck naked.

Hinata stutters, covering his eyes with his tiny hands, “Ah!! Atsumu-san!!!! Mine is a family-friendly stream!!”

Bokuto is still cackling in the background, and Atsumu coos, “Relax, Shouyou-kun, her underwear is still on.”

“If you die, that’s your fault. I’m not going to revive you,” kabikiller says, sounding unimpressed.

“I don’t need ya to anyway! I got Bokkun to do that for me.”

Bokuto doesn’t agree nor disagree, just laughs cheerily into his mic.

“Killer-san, are you gonna help us level up?” Hinata chirps.

“I’ll help Hinata-san,” kabikiller says.

Atsumu pouts. His second monitor chimes, balloons rushing in, subscribers weak to that face of his.

“So mean, Killer-kun,” Atsumu says with a whine. “‘nd we just met today too!”

“I’ll help you, Tsum-Tsum!”

“Thanks Bokkun, yer the only one I can trust here.”

kabikiller doesn’t talk that much for the rest of the stream, but whenever he does talk, Atsumu can feel his spine tingle. He makes a lot of jabs at Atsumu’s expense. Atsumu is used to it, from Osamu and from his high school friends, but for a streamer he doesn’t know to do it and to hit it where it hurts, too...

Man.

Atsumu’s subscribers sure are having a field day right now.

kabikiller ends up asking about Atsumu’s shirt at one point which makes Atsumu startle in his chair, stuttering as he whips his gaze down to the logo on his chest, forgetting that the guy can see him. He gives a not-so-eloquent response, but kabikiller seems content with the answer because he doesn't push any further. Atsumu can feel the way his cheeks burn and it's making his stomach twist. So kabikiller gets to see them react and knows what they all look like, but Atsumu doesn’t get to do the same? He feels a little exposed like this, in full view, unable to get any affirmation from that cartoon picture. He wonders what kabikiller thinks of him, if he finds Atsumu attractive.

Hold on, what the hell was he thinking?

He fixes his attention back on the game.

They play for a few hours, finally deciding to end the stream when he and Hinata reach level 10, an easy feat as they mooch off of Bokuto’s and kabikiller’s kills. Atsumu cracks a joke at the end that makes kabikiller chuckle, a breathy deep chuckle that’s enough to make him flush. Atsumu sees his chat ping, rows of messages coming in as the viewers go crazy for kabikiller’s throaty laugh the same way he did. He didn’t realize he could be grouped in with the rest of the guy’s fangirls. This was not okay.

“Alright guys, it was really fun streamin’ with ya, let’s do this again soon!”

He laughs seeing Bokuto and Hinata yell and wave excitedly at their webcam. kabikiller doesn’t say a word, promptly signing off. This might be the last of him, Atsumu thinks. He’s not sure if kabikiller had fun today. He didn't give feedback or do sign-off comments the way Atsumu and some of the other streamers did. Other than a few jibes thrown Atsumu’s way, he didn’t talk much at all, actually. It makes Atsumu wonder how he got to be so popular.

 _His voice_ , Atsumu’s brain answers for him.

Atsumu ruffles his hair in distress. He’s not going to think about this. He’s got to check out kabikiller’s stream for himself before he can come to a conclusion.

Atsumu’s not going to admit it.

No, he’s not going to admit that he enjoyed watching kabikiller’s stream today.

He was munching on his ramen when he found out that kabikiller was live. He had started streaming about half an hour ago, but Atsumu didn’t find out about it until he had gone through some of his follower’s pages.

It was quiet when he opened the stream. kabikiller wasn’t talking a mile a minute the way Hinata or Bokuto often did, and he didn’t make that many snarky comments either. He was actually a pretty decent player, and the few comments he did make were informational, talking about the pros and cons of different classes, their attack range, the types of equips that work well for them, among other things. He gave the same amount of effort regardless of the number of people watching, didn’t care if it was 5 or 500. It was really admirable. Atsumu didn’t realize how long he’s been watching until he looked outside the window and saw that the sun has gone down.

It seemed like kabikiller really did this for his own enjoyment. It was obvious when some streamers tried too hard to appeal to their viewers, but kabikiller wasn't like that. He didn't force himself to talk more than he needed to, didn't care for the amount of people watching. Even so, he was courteous and thanked his subscribers politely, and even called out the names of every new subscriber. Atsumu recognized some of the usernames in the chat, many of them his own fans. He’d like to think that he’s responsible for some of kabikiller’s subscribers. The guy owes Atsumu a percentage of the money he’s getting for that.

Towards the end of the stream, Atsumu does something he didn’t expect to do coming into the stream.

He clicks “subscribe” to kabikiller’s channel.

Not out of courtesy, but because he genuinely enjoyed watching it.

There is a beat of silence before kabikiller chuckles, that sound reverberating through Atsumu’s chest once more. “Thank you for subscribing, foxymiya.” It’s said with a faint amusement, and Atsumu’s chest lurches hearing him say “Miya” in his voice. Goddamn.

Everyone in the chat goes wild, not expecting Miya Atsumu to show up. He’s sure his own message will get lost among the rest, but he still types, “it was a fun stream, killer-kun~” kabikiller ends the stream with a curt “goodbye” and Atsumu lies there, the phone warm from energy usage laying flat on his chest.

His viewers are pushing for him and kabikiller to stream together again. He wonders if the guy would be willing. Atsumu would rather them play a game together without publicizing it first, but then that means Atsumu would be admitting to himself that he wants to get to know kabikiller as a person.

He gets why kabikiller's popular. He really does. The guy had a voice like warm, melted honey but spoke in a way that was blunt and proper. He was a good player. Smart, helpful, and enjoyed what he was doing. It never seemed like he was trying too hard to fish for viewers, and it seems like most people enjoyed the genuineness in it.

Atsumu wouldn't mind playing with him again.

Resigned, Atsumu tells himself to reach out the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're playing generic games on a generic streaming website so pls don't come for me sdkfjslkksj
> 
> kabi killer is an actual cleaning product in Japan.  
> if you know the streamer that kabikiller is based on, don't say anything LOL. but im sure... most ppl know...


	2. Chapter 2

Unlike what Atsumu expects, kabikiller doesn’t say no to a private gaming session.

Though he doesn't seem too excited about it either.

All Atsumu gets is an “OK.” _—_ period and all—in response to the paragraph-long text that he sent over Twitter. Atsumu gives the guy his Discord username too, but kabikiller doesn’t add him right away. Atsumu only gets the friend notification a few hours before they’re scheduled to play.

Atsumu doesn’t know why, but his heart is racing as he logs on to his account. Maybe it's because he hasn't played with a stranger in a while, his friends circle as small as a regular family household, Atsumu too uninterested in anybody else—that is, until kabikiller came along.

His palms are sweating now.

It'll be different without Bokuto and Hinata today; it might even be _awkward_. At this time, Atsumu can't help but get second thoughts, his fingers hovering over his keyboard, clenching and curling. His mind is giving him a way out, telling him to reschedule, excuses already forming, but that little green dot in the corner of kabikiller’s icon is staring at him, and Atsumu feels too bad about leaving him waiting. It's too late to back out now.

He takes a deep breath before clicking on that icon, inviting kabikiller to a voice call.

Atsumu clears his throat and calls out a “hello~” through the headset.

From the other side comes a low and throaty, “Hey.”

Atsumu’s breath leaves him for a minute.

No matter how many times Atsumu hears kabikiller’s voice, he’ll never get used to it. Maybe he has to do some desensitization therapy, watch his streams everyday so that he gets himself used to this deep silky voice. His cheeks feel warm; his palms won't stop sweating. This is getting to be a bit too much.

“No video?” kabikiller asks, catching Atsumu off-guard.

“What’s the point? It’s not like ya show yer face anyway.”

kabikiller hums but doesn’t say anything in response to that, and Atsumu can’t help but to add on teasingly, his confidence back astonishingly fast, “Did ya really wanna see my face that bad?”

He gets a scoff in return.

“It’s more entertaining seeing you make a fool out of yourself on camera.”

Atsumu squawks.

“Why’d I even decide ta play with ya today, huh? Yer so _mean._ ” But despite what he says, he still logs on to the game. The screen loads and his mage comes into view, her starter clothes still not equipped, looking as naked as ever.

“Because you suck and you need to me to teach you,” kabikiller says.

“No I don’t!” Atsumu protests back. “And I’m just askin’ ya to play with me for _fun_. I’d get less attitude from a walkthrough.”

“You don’t have the patience to read one.”

The man was right, but Atsumu doesn't want to acknowledge it so he just gives him a dramatic sniff. But deep inside, he's glad it doesn't feel awkward, that kabikiller feels comfortable enough to tease him. He can't believe he was so nervous about this. This was easier than he thought.

“So is that how ya got into streamin’?” Atsumu asks, trying to keep the conversation going. “‘cause ya liked games that much?”

“Not really.”

And it's like he ran straight into a wall. Atsumu huffs hearing that curt response. When Atsumu's the butt of the joke, kabikiller never runs out of things to say, but once the conversation turns back around, the guy clams up. Atsumu just wanted to get to know him a little better.

“Can ya give me a little more ta work with here? Why’d ya start streamin’?”

kabikiller is silent, and for a minute, Atsumu wonders if he stepped on a landmine. Atsumu doesn’t like to stream with anyone new because he knows he can be a bit brash and not everyone can put up with it the way Hinata and Bokuto can. He usually doesn't care what most people think of him, but he wants to get on kabikiller's good side. Luckily for him, kabikiller responds.

“I started streaming because of a streamer I watched. I don’t care to go pro. Just doing it to kill time.”

Atsumu is relieved to hear an answer and slumps back into his chair, leisurely guiding his mage around with his keyboard. “Do I know ‘em?”

“Probably,” is all kabikiller says in return. “Meet me at my waypoint.”

Atsumu does as he's told, porting to the town in the far corner of the map. kabikiller's shadowy warlock takes form on his monitor, and Atsumu makes his mage hop around him before following. They make it to the outskirts of town but Atsumu doesn't even know how he got there, too busy thinking about the streamer that kabikiller might have watched. Who was it? The person must have been really good to get a no-nonsense person like him to consider streaming. Out of the list of names in Atsumu's head, Kenma seemed the most likely. He was a professional player after all.

“What’s their username?” Atsumu asks, too curious to drop the topic.

“Forgot," kabikiller grunts.

“Seriously? They got ya to start streamin’ and you _forgot?”_

kabikiller doesn’t say anything in response and Atsumu knows he’s not going to get anything out of him so he doesn’t push any further, but he still makes a note of it in his head.

kabikiller might be mean, but he’s helpful. He knows the terrain like the back of his hand, knows the location of all of the important NPCs, and tells Atsumu which quests are worth doing and which aren’t. He leads Atsumu into a dungeon too (Atsumu won’t admit that kabikiller is carrying the team) and as Atsumu keeps screaming “Killer-kun” over the mic, he realizes that the name sounds a bit silly. He wonders if kabikiller is willing to give him his real name— it’s only fair considering the guy knows everything about Atsumu. If it’s just them two, maybe he’d feel comfortable turning on his video too. Atsumu can’t help that burning curiosity inside of him, the need to put a face to that voice.

“Hey Killer-kun,” he says, his character skipping around like a grade schooler, following that shadowy warlock out of the dungeon. “So why don’tcha show yerself on camera?”

“Because I’m ugly,” the guy says, without missing a beat.

It’s not the response that Atsumu was expecting so he laughs despite himself. “Nah, don’t lie ta me, I know that’s not true.”

The man grunts in return.

“What makes you say that?”

Atsumu says breezily, “I don’t think anyone can ever really be ugly. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, ya know?”

There’s a snort that comes through his headset. “Romantic. For all you know, I could be some 50 year old salaryman,” kabikiller says.

Atsumu has no evidence for it, but he just knows, deep in his gut, that kabikiller is attractive. He doesn’t know why. He’s even willing to bet on it.

“It’s just a feelin’ that I have,” Atsumu says.

“A feeling,” the guy repeats, deadpan.

“Besides, 50 year old salaryman or not, yer still fun to play with. If anythin’, I’m sure yer a hot salaryman.”

kabikiller snorts again and Atsumu desperately wishes that he could have seen that reaction over the camera.

“Is that your type?” kabikiller asks, amused.

“Sure is!” Atsumu chirps.

“You have… a pretty wide strike zone.”

“Well, I’m bi so that kinda makes sense.”

Minutes after he says it, his chest plummets. He just came out to a stranger. He hadn’t intended to do that, too caught up in the conversation, always oversharing from the get-go. He doesn’t even know the guy’s _name_ yet. Atsumu is just about to laugh it off, pretend like he said it just as a joke, but kabikiller says, bright and clear, “I am too.”

It’s just three words but it makes Atsumu’s chest beat fast, the way it does at the end of his volleyball matches, the pulse almost deafening. kabikiller seemed like a private person—Atsumu didn’t expect him to divulge information about himself like this. Maybe it was because Atsumu did the same?

Atsumu stares at their characters on the screen, the two of them walking through the desert terrain. He’s not used to bearing his heart with a stranger so he quickly tries to think of a joke, his usual defense mechanism.

“So do ya have a crush on me? Yer heart skipped a beat when ya saw me on camera, didn’t it? Admit it.”

kabikiller scoffs and says, “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Atsumu’s glad the webcam’s not on or else the guy would be able to see the dopey grin he has on his face.

“Ya never answered my question, by the way.”

“What question?”

“Why ya don’t turn yer video on.”

There’s a beat of silence before kabikiller finally responds, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Having my face on doesn’t add anything to the content. What’s the point.”

It’s such a ridiculous answer that Atsumu can’t help but laugh. Atsumu thought it was a privacy issue, but it’s really just because the guy didn’t think it was _necessary_. kabikiller really boiled it down to such a simple answer. What an interesting guy.

“So are ya ever gonna show yerself on screen?”

“No.”

“Not even ta me?”

kabikiller takes longer with his answer this time, but in the end he still replies, “No.”

Atsumu whines, making his mage zigzag back and forth, hopping circles around kabikiller’s warlock, just so that he seems extra desperate. “C’mon, Killer-kun!! Ya already saw my face so it’s only fair.”

“That has no logic behind it.”

“C’moooooon,” he whines again. kabikiller must be thinking about it at least, because his warlock stops moving, and Atsumu’s slutty mage also stops in her place.

“Win against me in PvP and I’ll consider it.”

“With this character?!” Atsumu asks in shock.

“With that character.”

If Atsumu knew something like this was going to happen, he would have chosen a character with better stats. This girl would be terrible at melee range, chosen more for the slutty outfits than for her attacks. Not to mention it’s going to take a century for Atsumu to even _get_ to kabikiller’s level.

But trust Atsumu to never turn down a challenge.

Full of confidence, he responds, “Yer on!”

The low chuckle that he gets in return goes straight to his gut. Flustered, Atsumu says, “Well, if ya can’t show me yer face, at least tell me yer name? Feels weird callin’ ya Killer-kun. Unless ya want me to call you Kabi-chan instead.”

It takes even longer for kabikiller to reply this time around but Atsumu doesn’t press it. Slowly, the voice says, “Kiyoomi.”

It might just be a fake name or a nickname but it’s enough to satisfy Atsumu for today. He can't help but smile. His character sends Kiyoomi a little emote through the game, her hand waving excitedly at Kiyoomi’s warlock. “Nice ta meet ya, Omi-kun!”

“What’s the point of giving you my name if you’re just going to call me whatever you want?” Kiyoomi grunts.

“Maybe if ya showed me yer face then I’d use yer full name,” Atsumu returns.

Kiyoomi doesn’t say anything in response and Atsumu knows he’s got him.

“Anybody else know it?” Atsumu asks.

“...no.”

Atsumu’s chest flutters a bit, his fingers tingly. Maybe Kiyoomi liked him better than he thought?

“I’m special aren’t I?” he says teasingly. “‘nd this is only the second time we met too!” Kiyoomi doesn’t acknowledge it, but Atsumu knows him well enough now to say that it's what he does when he can't argue. Atsumu really got it going on. He even managed to win over the newest internet “it” boy.

“Issit okay if I call ya Omi-kun in front of everybody?”

There’s a long silence on the other side. It seems like Kiyoomi doesn’t have much to hide, but he isn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of being known either. But in the end, he says “it’s fine,” making Atsumu break out into a wide grin.

“Hehe, thanks Omi-kun,” he teases, drawing the name out obnoxiously.

“I need to go,” Kiyoomi says out of the blue.

Atsumu doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before Kiyoomi’s warrior disappears from the screen. The voice chat is silent and Atsumu wonders if he overstepped his boundaries. But then he gets a message from Kiyoomi shortly after.

_Was running late. Had to meet with my cousin._

The tension in Atsumu’s shoulders go away.

 _Have fun, Omi-kun~,_ he messages back.

He stays online, forcing his character to level up just a little bit more before he allows himself to go to bed.

It will take him a long time before he’ll be able to win against Kiyoomi in a PvP match, but if it’s for the sake of knowing what he looks like, Atsumu’s more than willing to put in the long hours.

“I saw ya on yer stream the other day,” Osamu says casually one day, when Atsumu comes over for lunch.

“Ya _watched_ me?” Atsumu asks between spoonfuls of curry rice. “I _knew_ ya supported me. Did ya buy me any balloons?”

“Why would I buy ya balloons? Make quality content first,” Osamu shoots back.

“Hey! That’s mean! I bought ya balloons before—”

“Yeah, like 7 months ago—”

“But I still _did_ ,” Atsumu says petulantly.

Osamu gives him a glare and then says, “ _Anyway_ , I saw yer stream with what’s-his-face. ‘Omi-kun’? The one that doesn’t show his face.”

“Whaddabout it?”

“Ya have a crush on the guy or somethin’?”

Atsumu chokes, makes a grab for his water so that he can swallow the mouthful of rice that got lodged in his throat. “I don’t even know what the guy looks like!” Atsumu squawks. He can feel the heat creep up his cheeks and Atsumu focuses his attention back on his food, refusing to look Osamu in the eye.

“It’s a yes or no question,” Osamu says, his brows raised.

“I’m sayin’ I don’t _know_ ,” he mutters. “Why’d ya bring that up all of a sudden anyway?”

Osamu shrugs a shoulder. “Nothin’ really. Just seemed like you were tryin’ extra hard ta provoke him.”

“He deserves it. The guy’s a pain in the ass,” Atsumu says.

“Ya like it better that way anyway,” Osamu says back.

“Shaddup,” Atsumu grimaces. His hand is mashing one of the potatoes with the back of a spoon and he imagines the potato is Osamu and his smug little face.

“He’s one of the top subscribed channels this month," Osamu says, not noticing the potato voodoo that Atsumu is doing with his meal.

Atsumu’s head whips up when hears it.

“REALLY?” he exclaims.

“Yeah, it’s the hand pic or somethin’.”

What?

_Hand pic?_

“What’re ya talkin’ about?”

“Ya didn’t hear about it? It was all yer subscribers were talkin’ about on yer channel,” Osamu says with a bored-looking expression on his face.

Atsumu doesn’t want to tell him that he hasn’t been looking at his channel lately. He knows his subscribers are having too much fun at his expense, enjoying the way kabikiller puts him in his place, reduces him to a babbling, incoherent mess with his voice.

Osamu doesn’t feel the need to explain further because he just sighs, pulling out his phone. He fiddles with it a bit before shoving the screen right in front of him. “Here,” he says.

Atsumu grabs the phone and looks down to see an Instagram post created under the username “kabi.killer”. It was as Osamu said, just a hand pic, but for some reason, his pulse flutters underneath his skin when he sees it. That hand was fucking _huge._ Its fingers were long and slender, veins visible, popping out underneath that translucent skin, and the palm was wide and muscular. Clearly, this wasn’t just the hand of someone who sat around playing games all day—Kiyoomi must have worked out or something too. _Shit._

This pic had over 200,000 likes and all of the comments showed various degrees of excitement over that grayscale picture of a hand.

A hand!!!!!!

There wasn’t even a fancy caption to go alongside it. All it said was “Here.”

God, Kiyoomi was so infuriating. Everyone fell for this mysterious persona of his, hook line and sinker, and Atsumu was just another one among the masses.

Curious, Atsumu clicks on the username, wanting to know the other kind of pictures Kiyoomi has posted, how much he's willing to share with his followers.

Aside from the hand, there were only two other pictures. One was a monochrome picture of a sidewalk—boring, but fits along with whatever aesthetic Kiyoomi was trying to create.

The other picture…

Atsumu swallows thickly before clicking on it.

It was a mirror picture.

In it, Kiyoomi’s (huge) hand was grasping his phone, taking a picture of his outfit. The clothes looked expensive and tailored to him—Atsumu doesn’t know much about fashion but the outfit looked like a mock suit except the coat was cut short at his elbows, showing off a muscular forearm that’s vascular even in black and white. Kiyoomi was wearing a black face mask but must have figured it wasn’t private enough because he still chose to crop out the rest of his face. 

Atsumu takes it all in, looking again at the way those clothes draped across Kiyoomi’s frame, at the lazy way he slouched back on the seat as he took that picture. Holy shit. Even without seeing his face, Atsumu can confidently say that Kiyoomi was hot. _And_ probably made of money. No wonder the internet’s going crazy over him.

“Gross, you’re his fanboy, aren’t ya,” Osamu says, watching Atsumu’s face.

Atsumu hurriedly exits the app, tossing the phone back to Osamu. “Yer crazy! I just wanted to see why he’s so popular that’s all."

He gets a mildly scrutinizing gaze in return, but Osamu doesn’t push it, and Atsumu sighs in relief, stuffing more curry in his mouth so that he doesn't have to say anything else.

When he gets home, he pulls up the picture again on his phone. He takes a screenshot of that body pic and then he sends it to Kiyoomi with a teasing, “You’re the hottest 50 year old salaryman I know.”

All he gets is a properly punctuated, “Thanks.” but it still puts Atsumu in a good mood before bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u very much for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fic rating is changed to explicit because the smut is more, uh, explicit than intended. if you're a minor, do not read.

For every five things Atsumu tells Kiyoomi, he gets one from Kiyoomi in return. That means that by the end of their private gaming session today, Atsumu learns only three things in total.

One: Kiyoomi lives in the city.

Atsumu could have guessed that from the sort of clothes Kiyoomi wore in his Instagram post. It’s the kind of outfit you wouldn’t get away with wearing in the country, the kind that Atsumu swears he's seen in one of those streetwear magazines. It’s chic and a little uppity and too daring to wear anywhere else that’s not Tokyo. Kiyoomi confirms it for him, when Atsumu brings up Tokyo Tower and Kiyoomi mentions, so casually, that his apartment’s just a couple of minutes away from it, walking distance. Atsumu’s eyes go wide and he loses his train of thought for a second.

And that brings Atsumu to the next fun fact.

Two: Kiyoomi is well off.

Atsumu could have guessed that too, from the outfit that Kiyoomi wore, too tailored and too nice looking to be cheap. It’s confirmed when Kiyoomi talks about his apartment. His place is right in the heart of Minato ward which means that it’s the kind of place that Atsumu couldn’t dream of affording if it weren't for his new livestream career. Yet, from the bits and pieces that Atsumu puts together, it seems like Kiyoomi’s been living there for years now, long before the guy even started his streaming account. That, combined with the proper, careful way Kiyoomi speaks, could only mean that he’s the rich young master of some tech family. It explains the reckless way he spends on cash shop items, like that 3500 yen Shadow Reaper skin he recently bought for his warlock. It’s not the kind of stuff Atsumu could imagine buying so frivolously, especially at this age, and it makes the 50 year old salaryman persona kind of believable. It’s only when Kiyoomi mentions something about an exam that Atsumu finds out the very last fact.

Three: Kiyoomi is younger than him.

The 50 year old salaryman was actually a 22 year old, fresh university graduate, which makes him one whole grade level younger than Atsumu. When Kiyoomi confesses, it makes Atsumu splutter for a whole minute before he tries to turn the situation around by telling Kiyoomi to call him “senpai.” All Kiyoomi says is a firm, curt “no” before he changes the subject.

Atsumu pouts but doesn’t hesitate to bring it up next time.

He gets another “no”.

Atsumu had thought the joint streams with Kiyoomi would be enough—they were the latest hot topic after all—but unlike him, Kiyoomi had been doing his regular streams this whole time, which means it was Atsumu who was slacking off. 

When Kiyoomi tells him he can’t play on Saturday because he’s streaming with Hinata instead, Atsumu swallows down that bitter tang of jealousy and begrudgingly goes on Twitter to post:

_q &a sesh on saturday, pls join me :) _

He’s not petty enough to schedule it at the exact same time as Kiyoomi’s stream, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't cross his mind for a split second. 

Kiyoomi’s lucky that Atsumu’s a nice guy.

This Q&A session is the first solo stream Atsumu has done in a long time. He’s a chatterbox so he’s normally comfortable talking to himself while he plays, but he’s been preoccupied streaming with other people (i.e. Kiyoomi) so solo content takes more out of him than usual. The stream today is more structured compared to his regular streams, but he’s been feeling more self-conscious lately, too used to streaming with Kiyoomi. Now, he’s scared of needing to fill in the silence, scared that he won’t be enough for the viewers. At least the Q&A can ease him in a bit, get him used to talking to himself again. 

Thankfully, his subscribers are happy with the new content, rows and rows of questions coming in while Atsumu is busy leveling his mage. He doesn't know why he ever doubted himself.

 **onigiri4life:** who’s older, u or osamu?

Atsumu laughs and says, “Me, obviously. Couldn’t ya tell? I’m way more mature.” 

The chatbox is endless scrolls of “what” and “no way” and Atsumu squawks at his subscribers. 

“Do ya guys not believe me? Rude.” 

Most of the questions are along this line, harmless and only a little bit personal. But then, people slowly start to ask about the other streamers that he plays with: Bokuto, Hinata, and _especially_ Kiyoomi. 

**kabikisser00:** have u ever met kabikiller irl? how is he?????

“Nope! Never met him. Tell‘im to pick a time and a place and I’ll be there.” 

He thought it would be enough to satisfy them, but it seems like more of Kiyoomi’s fans are here than he thought, because more questions come in, some of them asking about Kiyoomi’s type, his face, whether or not Atsumu has seen his hand pic…

Atsumu doesn’t answer them, the amount of questions overwhelming. All he says is, “You guys’re really interested in Killer-kun, hm?”, laughing it off.

And then he gets a couple of different questions, the amount of them copy-and-pasted so often, there’s no way he can ignore them.

 **foxykabisupremacy:** would u date kabikiller?

Atsumu resolutely decides not to look at his webcam, focusing his attention instead on his character who is mindlessly attacking slimes for some trivial experience points, not merely enough to level her up. 

He’s been asked this before, about Hinata, about Bokuto, about Kita. Normally he laughs it off just fine, gives his subscribers an answer easily, used to playing along. But for some reason, he can’t muster up that same cocky flirtatiousness he does the other times. Judging by their username, the person asking clearly likes the idea of them two together, so Atsumu doesn’t want to push the joke too far. As he’s busy thinking, some other comments pop up, other subscribers telling this person, “get out of here!!” and “can u not?” and Atsumu does his best to jump in before his subscribers go for each other’s throats. 

“Hey guys, play nice. To foxykabisupremacy—nice username by the way—why don’tcha ask Killer-kun first? See if he’ll be willin’ ta date me,” he says evasively, trying to keep the grin on his face.

**foxykabisupremacy has gifted you +50 balloons!**

One of his subscribers must sense his unease because they change the topic.

 **sk96320 👑🏅:** Do you still play volleyball?

It’s one of his old subscribers. He recognizes them from the early start of his account, and it makes him smile knowing that they’re still watching his content. The tiny icons by this username sets it apart from all of the other ones, the crown next to the zero showing them to be one of Atsumu’s top donors; the ribbon showing them to be a long-time subscriber. This person never has much to say, but when they do, Atsumu just can’t ignore them.

“Long time no see, S K! I still play ev’ry couple of days with the neighborhood team, but I’ve been too busy tryna level up this character.”

**sk96320 👑🏅 has gifted you +500 balloons!**

Atsumu gives his webcam a winning smile, touched by the generous donation. “Thanks! I appreciate ya as always.”

He ends the stream about two hours in, feeling like he’s overshared enough for the day, but he stays logged in long enough to level up his character. Just a couple more levels and he might have a chance at winning against Kiyoomi. It’s been a few months but he’s almost there.

Just as he’s about to sign out, the bottom of his screen shows that Kiyoomi is logged on, the man probably wanting to get in some personal time before his joint stream with Hinata starts. Atsumu opens the world map to see where the warlock is, but Kiyoomi must have used one of the teleportation devices that he bought from the cash shop because his character appears next to Atsumu within a second. Atsumu's other monitor shows that Kiyoomi is indeed available on Discord, and Atsumu quickly joins him in voice chat.

“You’re already level 90,” Kiyoomi says, as a way of greeting.

“Nice ta see ya too, Omi-kun,” Atsumu responds with a laugh. “Don’t I look good with my new gear?” The new gear in question was a maid costume, showing off his mage’s assets extremely well. 

Kiyoomi snorts. “Did you just buy it from the cash shop?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Atsumu says with a dramatic sniff. “Never bought me weapons, never bought me clothes… what kinda sugar daddy are ya?” 

Kiyoomi sighs, already exasperated after 5 minutes of Atsumu’s presence, but he must have a soft spot for him too because a big red dot shows up by Atsumu’s mail icon. There’s nothing in the subject line, but Atsumu’s heart still beats rapidly when he sees that it came from one ‘kabikiller’.

“Didja really get me something?!” Atsumu exclaims. “I was just jokin’ but… wow! Thanks Omi-kun!!” 

“Now you can’t say I never bought you anything,” Kiyoomi says.

Atsumu makes his character blow Kiyoomi’s warlock a kiss before he opens up the mail. 

**kabikiller has sent you a gift!**

When he clicks on the gift box, it opens up to reveal… fox ears. It’s not something he expected in the slightest and he can’t help but laugh. If only his subscribers knew that Kiyoomi was just as much of a troll as he was.

“This isn’t gonna match with my maid outfit, Omi-kun,” Atsumu teases.

“It’s the most fitting. You looked good with them today.”

Atsumu chokes on his spit, recalling the fox ears his subscribers asked him to wear for a whole five minutes.

“Ya watched my _stream?_ ” Atsumu splutters. He’s so glad they’re only on voice chat. He doesn’t think he would be able to live it down if Kiyoomi was able to see how red his face got.

“Some of it.”

Atsumu doesn’t know what to say. He stares at those fox ears with a grimace, not knowing if he should double click on it to accept them into his inventory, or just… leave them there. Since this came from the cash shop, Kiyoomi must have spent money on it— and as much as Atsumu likes to mess around with Kiyoomi, turning this down would be too rude. 

Kiyoomi must sense Atsumu’s internal dilemma because he so helpfully prods, “Not going to wear it?” 

Atsumu can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes him grit his teeth. So Kiyoomi’s daring him, huh?

With a huff, Atsumu accepts the gift, equipping it on his character. 

“Looks good, foxymiya,” Kiyoomi says, amused. 

Atsumu uses his mage to whack at Kiyoomi in order to show his frustration and says, “I can’t wait ta beat ya in PvP.”

Kiyoomi laughs deep in his chest, and something hot and electric spikes within him, Atsumu only becoming more sensitive to that sound.

That day, Atsumu stays logged on longer than expected.

His door seems further away than it usually does. Or maybe that’s just because he’s a little tipsy.

He hung out with Aran, Suna and Osamu today, and Suna had egged him on a bit too much, refilling his glass whenever it got below the halfway mark. For some reason, everyone gets drunk whenever Suna is around. It’s just the way he raises his eyebrows at you and stares at your drink as though he’s saying, “what, can’t finish it?”, and naturally Atsumu falls for it every time.

The karaage had soaked up some of the alcohol throughout the course of the night, but there was still enough beer in Atsumu’s system to make him feel a bit buzzed even now. Despite that, even when Atsumu gets home, he doesn’t go to bed. Instead, he makes a beeline to his computer, a habit he can’t break.

His Discord automatically loads and Atsumu closes his eyes for a bit. When he opens them, he sees the little green dot next to Kiyoomi’s name and it makes him startle. It’s close to midnight. Kiyoomi’s usually not on at this time. 

Curious, Atsumu double-clicks on his icon, and the call connects almost immediately.

“Omi-kun, yer up late,” Atsumu says into his headset. 

Atsumu doesn’t always bother him because he knows Kiyoomi just wants to do his own thing sometimes, but he can’t help but bother him today. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” the voice says, sounding even warmer and huskier this late at night. Like a cologne close to skin.

The game is still on the log-in screen on his other monitor, but Atsumu doesn’t click on it yet. He doesn’t really feel the need to like this, taking more company in the sound of Kiyoomi’s voice than on some pixels. He can’t help but lean his head back against his chair, closing his eyes, focusing on the way his blood pulses throughout his body, alcohol warming him up from the inside.

“So I went to a bar with my friends t’day… and I might be a lil drunker than expected,” Atsumu says, mouth a bit looser than usual.

With his eyes closed, Atsumu can focus on Kiyoomi’s low breaths, on the faint clicks of his keyboard and his mouse. 

“That explains why you’re slurring,” Kiyoomi says with a bit of a scoff.

“‘m I slurrin’?”

“More than you usually do.”

“I don’t slur normally!!” he protests, albeit half-heartedly.

Kiyoomi hums. “It’s the Kansai-ben. It just sounds that way.”

“Why’d I even decide ta talk to ya, huh?” Atsumu asks with a groan. All he gets is a chuckle in return, and you’d think that all these times streaming with Kiyoomi would habituate him to the sound of that laugh, but when he’s drunk it only magnifies that sound somehow, the laugh like a shot of hot sake, burning on the way down. He can feel the heat blooming in his chest. 

“So what’d ya do today, Omi-kun?” Atsumu asks, trying to distract himself from the warmth spreading throughout his body.

“Had class. Visited home. Took my dog on a walk. Played games. That’s it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know ya had a dog, Omi-kun. Ya seemed like the cat type.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, it’s cuz yer all… aloof. And prickly.”

“And you’re like an overexcited puppy,” Kiyoomi shoots back.

“Y’see? That’s what I mean,” Atsumu says with a huff. “What breed’s yer dog, anyway?” 

“Yorkshire terrier.”

For some reason, the thought of it makes Atsumu bust out laughing. Kiyoomi, with his deep voice and his monochrome outfits and his overwhelming curtness… has a tiny Yorkshire terrier?

“What’s so funny?”

“I was expecting a shiba or somethin’ cool like a greyhound. But you have a tiny lil terrier?” He’s still giggling from a combination of the image in his head and the alcohol that makes his nerves numb.

“Would you like to meet him? He’s right next to me.”

“Can I?” He’s not sure if Kiyoomi is going to turn on his webcam or not; it’s what he nearly expects. How else would Atsumu be able to meet him? 

Instead, Kiyoomi calls his dog over the mic. 

“Choco! Come.”

Atsumu tries to hold back his laughter, not expecting such a cute name. This really doesn’t suit his image at all. Kiyoomi doesn’t have a clue about the state that Atsumu’s in, too focused on his dog to notice Atsumu’s barely held back giggles. 

“Choco— sit. Good. Choco, speak.” 

The dog lets out a yip, and Atsumu laughs, finding the dog (and its owner) unbearably cute. Who knew that Kiyoomi would be such a good dog trainer?

“He says hi,” Kiyoomi says, translating for Choco’s sake. The curt way he says it makes Atsumu smile. Kiyoomi can be a bit of a dork sometimes.

“Hi Choco! Woof!” Atsumu says back.

Kiyoomi lets out a laugh-cough, not expecting Atsumu to bark into the mic. 

“Hold on. I need to let him out of my room.”

There’s a rustle on the other side and Atsumu leans back into his chair happily. Talking to Kiyoomi was always fun; even their silences never felt awkward. They’ve only talked to each other for a few months, but Atsumu feels like he’s known him forever. It’s been a while since he got along with someone this well.

“He’s cute, huh?” Kiyoomi asks, once he’s back on the mic.

Atsumu laughs to himself. 

“Yeah, he is,” he says. _But the owner is cuter._

Atsumu tries to push that thought out of his mind. The beer is still making his stomach too warm; he can feel the heat spreading throughout his body.

“You sound different when ya talk to ‘im,” Atsumu mumbles, his face hot from the alcohol. Or was it from talking to Kiyoomi now? He’s not sure.

“How so?”

“Hmm… yer voice sounds softer? Gentler?”

It’s quiet on the other side and Atsumu rushes to correct himself, careful to have offended Kiyoomi. “I don’t mean it in a bad way! It’s just… nice.”

“Do you want me to talk to you gently? Is that what it is?” Kiyoomi asks, amused.

All of the blood in Atsumu’s body rushes to his face and it sobers him up instantly. Is Kiyoomi flirting with him?

“Shit, yer really—” He groans, dropping his head back onto his headrest. “Ya really gotta stop it with that voice of yers.”

There’s a beat of silence. It’s heavy and drawn out. Atsumu can hear Kiyoomi’s slow breaths through the mic, and it gets his blood pulsing, heat flaring beneath his skin. After a moment, Kiyoomi says, his voice low and gravelly, “What’s wrong with my voice?”

It makes Atsumu’s stomach lurch, his heartbeat racing. “ _Shit._ Don’t— don’t pretend like ya don’t know.”

“Tell me.”

His pulse is fluttering. His stomach is burning even hotter than before. There’s something daring in Kiyoomi’s voice and it turns him on, sends his blood racing. He never thought the deep voice can drop even lower but it can, and Atsumu can feel the sound of it reverberate in his chest. It feels like that voice is wrapping all around him, caressing every part of his skin. Fuck. This just confirms that he has a voice kink.

“Omi-kun,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “This is… this is getting dangerous.”

He can feel himself starting to get hard, the alcohol making his body too warm, too willing. He expects Kiyoomi to stop there; that he’d be aware of where this conversation was heading, but instead, Kiyoomi says with a bit of a laugh, “Does my voice turn you on?”

Atsumu could have let this go in any other direction. He could have laughed it off, pretended like it was just a joke. He could have lied and said that he didn’t view Kiyoomi in that way. But at this moment, with the alcohol muddling his brain, all he could muster was a weak and pathetic “yes”.

His face is hot like he’s running a fever. He can hear Kiyoomi’s shallow breaths on the other side of the headset. It’s sobering enough to make Atsumu reach for the mouse, ready to log off, too aware of the line that he’s crossed. But before he can do it, he hears Kiyoomi’s low voice say, “Turn your webcam on.”

The blood pounds in his ears.

He shouldn’t be so eager to do it but he can’t help it, his pulse fluttering from excitement and arousal, too far down the rabbit hole to stop. He swallows thickly, imagining Kiyoomi seeing him come undone, the idea too tempting, his exhibitionist side rearing its head. Are they really about to do this?

Atsumu clears his throat and asks, “C’n I see ya too?”, holding his breath as he waits for the answer. He doesn’t expect a yes. Atsumu was just throwing a line into the water to see what bites. But he wants to see him; wants evidence that Kiyoomi’s watching him.

After a minute, Kiyoomi’s voice comes through the headset, low and breathy.

“Not until you win against me,” he says. “But I’ll give you a treat.”

Atsumu takes a deep breath before turning on his camera. With a jolt, he realizes that Kiyoomi’s camera is on too. Kiyoomi’s face is half-covered with a black medical mask. His hair is longer than Atsumu expected, styled to the side with some pomade, definitely not the kind of cut a 50 year old salaryman would have. Peeking from underneath that fringe are a pair of sharp eyes that look so dark, Atsumu feels like he can fall into them. 

Kiyoomi is just in a T-shirt and sweats today, nothing like the outfit he wore in his Instagram picture, but he still sticks true to his aesthetic, the clothes all black, his frame filling them out. He’s leaning back into his chair as he stares at his monitor, spinning from side to side leisurely, carrying a quiet sort of confidence in his mannerisms. One hand is fiddling with the mic connected to his headset.

“Fuck, yer so hot,” Atsumu moans. 

Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows and then he chuckles, and seeing that sound connected to a face, even if it was half-covered, feels so much more satisfying. 

“Your face is flushed,” Kiyoomi murmurs. “Are you still drunk?” 

Shit, the voice even _feels_ different like this, when Atsumu is finally able to put a face to that voice. It feels like a dream having Kiyoomi in front of him, to see something other than that cartoon picture. Atsumu’s body is heating up, his nerves sizzling.

“No, I wasn’t— wasn’t really that drunk in the first place. Just— sorta buzzed.”

“Hmm…” Kiyoomi is staring at his screen, his gaze darkening, and those eyes flicker down briefly as though he’s trailing his eyes down Atsumu’s body. Atsumu suddenly feels naked like this; like Kiyoomi’s right in this room, eating him up with a look.

“Do you really get turned on by the sound of my voice?” Kiyoomi asks bluntly.

Atsumu clenches his eyes shut in embarrassment, groaning as he throws his head back against his chair.

“Yes,” he grunts, his face burning.

Alcohol made him such a blabbermouth. Why did he admit that to Kiyoomi in the first place?

“I’ll help you get off. So let me watch you.”

Atsumu bolts up in his chair. 

“Wait— what?”

It doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi wants to repeat it because all he does is sit there, waiting for Atsumu’s response. His gaze betrays nothing, like he doesn’t particularly care if Atsumu fulfills his request or not. He just watches Atsumu for his next move, those eyes daring him, and Atsumu can feel his body heat up from the intensity of that gaze. 

“This is fucking crazy,” Atsumu mumbles. Despite his grumbling, his hand still moves down his body, palming his cock through his jeans.

“Come on, Miya. You need to put on more of a show.”

Atsumu groans, the embarrassment hitting him. What the hell? Was this really happening? He can’t believe he’s so excited for it, already hard just from seeing Kiyoomi on the screen, from hearing him speak.

“So yer just gonna watch? That’s it?” Atsumu grunts, his hands still grinding against his cock through the denim. The pressure feels good. He can’t stop.

“I’m helping you. What’s the problem?”

Atsumu clenches his eyes shut.

_This is embarrassing, that’s the fucking problem!_

But he doesn’t answer that. He doesn’t need to, because Kiyoomi’s voice travels through the mic, not caring to hear an answer. 

“Take your shirt off,” Kiyoomi says.

Atsumu’s eyes snap open, staring at that image of Kiyoomi on the screen, Kiyoomi watching him leisurely, slumped back against his gaming chair like watching any old movie. Atsumu can’t tell anything from his expression—the room too dimly lit, only enough for him to make out Kiyoomi’s eyes. But still, those eyes are watching him.

Atsumu huffs but gets up from his chair, putting his headset on his desk before peeling his shirt off. He sits back down, headset pulled back over his ears. He’s glad that his room isn’t too bright. The blue light of his screen only helps illuminate his body, shadows accentuating the muscles beneath skin.

“You really do still play volleyball,” Kiyoomi says, taking in the line of his body.

“What? How do ya know I play volleyball?”

It’s silent for a minute before Kiyoomi says curtly, “Your stream.”

Right. His Q&A session.

Kiyoomi must sense his awkwardness even through the screen because he asks, “Are you nervous?”

“What’ve I got ta be nervous about?!” Atsumu snaps back.

Maybe he’s not as much of an exhibitionist as he thought. He doesn’t want to admit it, but sitting in front of the camera half-naked like this does feel exposing, especially when he doesn’t even get to see Kiyoomi’s full face. He’s not confident about the expression Kiyoomi has on—if he’s bored or interested.

“What kind of roleplay do you want?” Kiyoomi asks with a low chuckle.

“I don’t need some roleplay fantasy!” Atsumu squawks, not expecting Kiyoomi to tease him. “Stop makin’ this weird.”

“That’s what phone sex companies offer, don’t they?”

“Is this phone sex?” Atsumu huffs. “What, were ya gonna pretend to be a nurse or something? Or a teacher?”

The laugh that he gets in return goes straight to his dick. “Is that what you had in mind?”

“It’s _not_ ,” Atsumu protests. Kiyoomi needs to stop putting words in his mouth.

“Then… did you want me to order you around? Or call you _senpai?_ I can do that.” 

Heat spikes up his gut, his arousal close to boiling over, making his chest feel hot. 

“I can praise you too. That seems like something you’d like.”

Atsumu hisses when he hears that, his hands sliding back down to press against his cock. When he closes his eyes, he can hear Kiyoomi’s low breaths through his headphones. 

“Thought so,” Kiyoomi says with a chuckle.

Atsumu groans, throwing his head back as he presses his hand down, harder. 

“You know you’re attractive, hm?” the voice says. “What’s the point of me telling you? If I tell you, it will just go to your head.”

Yeah, he knows, but it still feels good to hear it. He’s so unsure about what Kiyoomi thinks of him. His mouth might be saying one thing, but behind that profile picture, who knows what kind of face he’s making? Even if it’s just his eyes, it’s reassuring to see someone there, someone real.

“Thanks for thinkin’ I’m hot, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says with a bit of a laugh, trying to get the upper hand.

Kiyoomi snorts into his mic, and Atsumu swears he can feel that breath through his headphones, tickling his ear. 

“See? Exactly what I said,” Kiyoomi says.

Atsumu looks at the screen in front of him, seeing the man spin from side-to-side again, entertained by the view. That cocksure way he looks into the webcam sends a slight prickle of irritation through Atsumu’s chest; Kiyoomi too unbothered while Atsumu is laid out on the operation table for Kiyoomi’s pleasure. It makes Atsumu want to take him down a notch. 

If Kiyoomi wants a show, he’ll fucking give it to him.

With a slow hand, Atsumu unbuttons his jeans, spreads the zipper open wide enough so that his briefs can be seen by the camera. He hears the sharp intake of breath on the other side of the headset, and it makes Atsumu’s chest puff a bit.

Atsumu lets out a low throaty groan, his fingers playing with his cock through the fabric. He doesn’t take it out yet. Not until Kiyoomi eats his words.

“Take your jeans off,” Kiyoomi says.

Atsumu keeps stroking himself like this, through the fabric of his briefs, pretending like he didn’t hear a word of what Kiyoomi said. With his best naughty grin, Atsumu tells him, “Only if yer good.”

Kiyoomi scoffs in disbelief.

“Do you want balloons for it?” Kiyoomi asks. “100 balloons for each article of clothing you take off?”

Atsumu chuckles. “It’s gotta be 500 at least. I’m expensive, ya know.”

All he hears on the other line is a pause, and then an all too casual, “I can do that.”

Atsumu lets out a bark of laughter. He meant it as a joke, but Kiyoomi’s willing to _pay_ for it? No fucking way. 

“Yer something else, Omi-kun,” he says, with a shake of his head.

“Stop getting distracted. You’re never going to get off at this rate.”

He doesn’t know that Atsumu’s still hard; that it’s enough of a turn on just hearing Kiyoomi’s voice. Kiyoomi could be reading a dictionary and Atsumu would still find a way to get aroused by it.

“Feel good?” he asks, noticing the way Atsumu’s eyes flutter closed. 

“Mm, yeah,” Atsumu mumbles, legs twitching at the friction, at the way his cock feels when the fabric rubs against him.

“You should stream this, Atsumu. I’m sure your fans would pay good money for this content.”

Atsumu laughs, looks up at Kiyoomi through half-lidded eyes. “Maybe I shoulda been a camboy, hm?”

“Can’t deny that you’d make a good one,” Kiyoomi murmurs.

“If I ever make an account, I’ll let ya know.”

Kiyoomi lets out a low, throaty chuckle that makes Atsumu’s stomach burn again, his arousal flaring up, that voice like kindling thrown into the fire. His breath quickens as he brings one hand down to his nipples, rubbing and plucking at it while his other hand still grinds against his cock. He uses just enough pressure to keep himself hard and needy, doesn’t want this to be over so soon.

“Are your nipples sensitive?” 

Kiyoomi doesn’t seem to have moved from his position but his gaze seems sharper, as though it’s trying to take all of Atsumu in.

“Mn… yeah. It helps get me there.”

He gets a low curious hum in return. Atsumu can’t help but palm himself harder, massaging his hand against the tip.

“Have you been with a guy before?”

“Mn… just fooled around with some.”

It’s quiet for a bit. Kiyoomi is staring at his image on the screen with that same intent gaze, and it makes Atsumu’s cheeks heat up.

“Fooled around, huh?” Kiyoomi asks.

Atsumu gnaws on his lips. 

“Yeah, like... hand stuff and… blow jobs and stuff.”

“Hand stuff,” Kiyoomi repeats with a bit of a laugh. “So do you know if you’re top or a bottom?”

“Well, I— uh. I don’t… No preference, prob’ly,” he grunts back. 

When he doesn’t hear anything in return, he prods Kiyoomi for a response. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Kiyoomi says. The next part is said deep from his chest, words low and breathy. “Just thought it’d be fun to bend you over.”

Atsumu’s heart jumps to his throat, his breath hitching. But Atsumu just swallows it down, puts on his best cocky smile and says back with a bit of a laugh, “I’m 187cm. ‘m not exactly easy ta bend over.”

Without skipping a beat, Kiyoomi replies, “I’m 192. I can try.”

 _Fuck_. 

His dick twitches at the sound of that, and Atsumu can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. Kiyoomi must have noticed it because he lets out a low chuckle.

“Seems like you’re into it.”

Atsumu clenches his eyes shut but doesn’t respond. Kiyoomi really had it all, huh? Bastard.

“Are ya not gonna get off?” Atsumu grunts. He really wants to get his dick out, touch himself directly, but Kiyoomi is still sitting there fully-dressed and it makes Atsumu too conscious of himself, too vulnerable, like a cat declawed.

“You should see my face first before you see my dick,” Kiyoomi just says back. He’s got a point, but Atsumu still doesn’t back down.

“‘s not like I’m ever gonna be able ta see yer face anyway,” Atsumu says moodily.

It’s silent for a bit, but after a while, Kiyoomi says slowly, “I’m sure you will.”

Atsumu doesn’t even get enough time to process those words before Kiyoomi says firmly, “Jeans.” 

He doesn’t want to look so obedient, but fuck it, they were starting to feel uncomfortable anyway. He stands up, pulling his pants off and his briefs off with it. At this point, he’s too turned on to be embarrassed. He just wants to get off, wants to hear Kiyoomi’s voice when he gets there. 

Kiyoomi is silent, but he must have a problem with the way Atsumu is sitting because he clicks his tongue, annoyed. 

“Get closer,” he says.

Obediently, Atsumu pulls on his desk, rolling his gaming chair closer to the monitor. 

“Spread your legs wider.”

Atsumu flushes, warring himself for a minute, but in the end he does as he’s told, exposing himself on camera. He refuses to look at the image of himself on the bottom of the screen, legs practically hooked on the arms of his chair, displaying himself in front of Kiyoomi who’s just staring at him, unabashed. 

“You look good.”

It’s just three words but it still makes his chest flutter. He closes his eyes, touching himself once again. It feels better without his jeans restricting him. He’s leaking from the foreplay and the wet slide of his hand against bare skin makes him groan.

Kiyoomi’s voice travels through the mic. “Faster,” he says.

Atsumu’s hand quickly obeys even before his brain gets the chance to process it. He can feel his stomach trembling now, thighs twitching as they strain from being spread open, wide enough so that Kiyoomi can see all of him.

“Feel good?” 

“Nngh— _fuck_.” Atsumu moans, his hand moving uncontrollably now. Kiyoomi really shouldn’t fucking use his voice like that. It sounds gravelly, like he went through a whole pack of cigarettes, like his throat is rubbed raw from sex. It’s making Atsumu’s head spin.

“Get yourself wetter. You’re going to rub yourself raw like that.”

Kiyoomi probably couldn’t see the amount of precum leaking from his tip, Atsumu so close to finishing it’s embarrassing. Atsumu does his best to listen but he doesn’t want to move from his chair, his lotion too far away to reach. So he does the next best thing. He licks his hand, collecting the spit there before putting it back on his cock.

It must not be what Kiyoomi was expecting, because he curses. 

“Fuck, you’re dirty,” he says. 

Atsumu moans even more, his hand moving faster now. He really wants to see Kiyoomi’s face, wants to see Kiyoomi’s cock, wants to feel that body against him. _Just thought it’d be fun to bend you over._ Shit, Atsumu can’t stop thinking about it now—how good it’d feel to be taken like that. Atsumu wouldn’t do that for just anyone, but— he can’t stop imagining it. He’s getting close.

“Slower.”

Atsumu lets out a pathetic whine, releasing his cock completely. 

“I said slower, not let go.”

“I’m… I was gettin’ too close,” he grunts, trying to regulate his breathing.

“That was fast.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu groans, tossing his head back. His stomach is burning. He just wants to get off now, so strung out he’s about to snap, but it seems like Kiyoomi is ready to play with him all night.

“Help me,” he says, lolling his head onto his shoulder. He spreads his legs even wider, strokes slow, his hands twisting around his length. “I wanna come.”

“Shit, you’re so—” Kiyoomi stops himself there. When Atsumu looks at the screen, he can see those brows furrow, that large hand spread across the bottom half of his face like he’s trying to hide his reaction, even though Atsumu can’t see anything through that mask anyway.

It feels good being able to get a rise out of Kiyoomi like this, makes Atsumu’s chest swell in satisfaction. 

One hand is still stroking himself slowly, just the barest of touches so that he doesn’t come too quickly. The other hand grabs his mic, positions it closer to his mouth so that Kiyoomi can hear him loud and clear.

“You wanna fuck me, Omi-kun? Is that what ya want?” he asks with a moan.

Kiyoomi exhales long and slow, the air heavy, squeezed from his chest. That large hand spans across his eyes now, fingers pressed up against his brow bone so that Atsumu is blocked from his vision just for a second. Atsumu is giddy seeing it, laughs low into the mic as he watches Kiyoomi try to regain his composure. Slowly, that hand drops. They lock eyes through the screen and Atsumu laughs again, low and cocky.

“I fuckin’ dare ya,” he says, his teeth glinting as he strokes.

Kiyoomi’s eyes flash with something, Atsumu isn’t sure what it is, but Kiyoomi responds back, deep and menacing, “Careful what you wish for, Atsumu.”

Fuck. 

He can’t stop anymore, his hands are moving like they have a mind of their own, stroking faster and faster. He can feel his toes wriggle as he gets closer and Atsumu moans, closing his eyes as he strokes. Kiyoomi doesn’t say anything anymore, but Atsumu can hear his low steady breathing through the headset, and it’s enough to get him there. With a gasp, he comes, his stomach tensing and trembling as he shoots onto his chest. His body is shuddering through it, and when he dares to glance up at the screen, he can see Kiyoomi watching him intently, not looking away for even a second. 

The relief spreads through his body, toes still curling from his high. When it passes, he sits back up, and as the cum dries on his stomach, the realization of what he did finally sinks in. Holy shit. He just got himself off in front of someone. He doesn’t even know what Kiyoomi fully _looks like_. 

“You’re using your shirt?” Kiyoomi asks with a snort, watching as Atsumu wipes off the cum from his chest.

“Whaddya want from me? It’s almost 1am. I just came ‘nd I’m tired now.”

Kiyoomi is resting his head on his palm, elbow propped up on his armrest. He doesn’t look affected at all. Atsumu wonders if he just imagined it before, wonders if he misheard Kiyoomi cursing because of him. 

“I’ll let you go,” Kiyoomi says, his voice as steady as ever.

Atsumu tilts the webcam up, until his bottom half is blocked from view. Now that the sex fog has cleared, he’s starting to feel embarrassed. He feels cold and naked, and it’s weird to have Kiyoomi see all of him when it’s not… sexy. 

“G’night Omi-kun,” he says brightly, as though they just ended any other game.

“Monday,” Kiyoomi says. “I’ll see you then.”

The call ends and Atsumu sits there, his bare ass stuck to the chair as the reality sinks in. 

Damn. 

He really hopes this isn’t going to make this awkward between them. 

With a sigh, he turns off his computer.

Neither of them bring it up. They play like usual, and Kiyoomi even helps him with one of the trickier quests, gathering some items for him. Atsumu’s not sure if he’s overthinking it or if he’s not thinking about it enough. He tries his best to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but somehow, Kiyoomi still catches on.

“Hey. Focus.”

“S-sorry!” He says, finally noticing that his character was well within the monster’s area of effect. He dodges, using his scepter to conjure some lightning bolts. With Kiyoomi’s help, the monster dies quickly.

“Stop thinking so much or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Atsumu splutters. “‘ _scuse_ me?!?”

“You’re not talking as much. Don’t make it awkward.”

“I’m not _makin’_ it awkward!” 

_It already_ is _awkward_ , he wants to say.

“You could have killed that thing in less than a minute.”

Kiyoomi was right. It was a pixie that was 10 levels below his. 

“I was jus’ distracted!”

Kiyoomi sighs and Atsumu can’t help but think back to the other night, remembering those low, steady breaths as he watched Atsumu jack himself off. Goddammit. 

“It happened. Just let it be.”

Atsumu stays quiet. How the hell can he just “let it be” when he was the one that got buck naked in front of the screen and got himself off in front of a total stranger?

Seeing Atsumu’s lack of response, Kiyoomi continues on. What he says next punches the air out of Atsumu’s lungs.

“I don’t regret it.”

Atsumu’s thankful that they’re just back on voice chat, that Kiyoomi can’t see the strangled expression on his face. Somehow, Kiyoomi’s comment does help. It makes him feel a little less self-conscious.

“I don’t… I don’t really regret it either but— it’s still really fuckin’ embarrassin’…”

Kiyoomi snorts. “So does this mean you’re not going to stick to your word?”

“Wait— what?”

“You dared me to fuck you.”

The blood rushes to his face in one go. 

_Fuckin’ shit, Atsumu, you sure say a lot when yer buzzed and horny!_

“Can we not talk ab’t the shit I said,” Atsumu says, groaning into his hands. 

“You constantly choose slutty characters and you’re embarrassed?” 

“That’s different!” Atsumu squawks.

“If you need me to help you, I’ll do it again.”

Even without seeing Kiyoomi’s face, Atsumu can just imagine the smirk he has on, the smugness too apparent in his voice. Kiyoomi didn’t seem like the type to be able to speak about sex so bluntly. But then again, he talks about everything with the same kind of bluntness. 

“I really fuckin’ hate you, ya know,” Atsumu says with no heat behind it. Kiyoomi must know it too because he just says curtly, “No you don’t.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me? Yer such a pain in the ass.”

“Hmm… it takes one to know one.”

Atsumu wants to laugh out loud at the response. So immature.

“What are ya, five? What the heck kind of a comeback was that?”

“I’m right though,” Kiyoomi retorts.

“‘samu would agree with ya, so ya got me there.”

“Just picked up the last crystalline dust. What other items do you need?”

 _Finally._ That was the last item he needed for the quest. 

“That’s it, Omi-Omi, thanks!”

Their characters mount up, heading back to the quest NPC, and as they do so, Atsumu can’t help but ask, “So would ya really be willin’ ta let me see yer face?”

“If you beat me.”

Atsumu doesn’t want to admit that he’s relieved. He was a little worried that some of it may have changed—that Kiyoomi would have changed his mind after all of that. 

“Ya better watch out,” Atsumu says with a cocky grin. “I’m gonna kick yer ass in PvP.”

Kiyoomi says back sarcastically, “Can’t wait.”

A month later and Atsumu finally, _finally_ makes it to level 110. He had considered fighting Kiyoomi at level 105, but Kiyoomi knew more about crafting and weapons so Atsumu knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against Kiyoomi’s obsidian-whatever-infused staff. Level 110 is good. It’s enough. He might actually have a chance.

He hurriedly messages Kiyoomi that day.

_See ya at the basketball court after school. i’ll kick yer ass_

Kiyoomi messages back, _Please use language that I understand._

Atsumu laughs. 

_See ya online at 3pm, nerd. i'll beat ya in pvp_

A part of him wants to stream their match, but a larger part of him wants to keep it private—just between them two. He looks at the time on his phone. There is still about three hours left. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. He played against enough bots to withstand a chance against Kiyoomi. Sure, his DPS could use a bit more work, but if he dodges Kiyoomi’s attacks well enough, he might be able to make it. He’s studied enough of Kiyoomi’s streams to figure out his attack rotation.

He lies back, breathing out a long sigh, spinning his chair back and forth as the clock on the bottom of his screen stays stuck on the same numbers. Shit, he's not going to get anything done like this. He needs to distract himself until the time comes. 

With a sigh, he puts on some old volleyball videos, hoping to calm his rattling nerves.

It’s a quarter til three and Atsumu logs on. Even if he’s not going to stream the match, he’s at least going to record it so that he can study up if he loses. He opens up his equipment bag and consumes a strengthening elixir and a Spiced Apple Cake while waiting for Kiyoomi to log on.

“You’re here early for once,” Kiyoomi says on their voice chat.

Atsumu’s heart skips a beat. He’ll never get used to that voice. “Just couldn’t wait to beat ya!” he chirps back. 

Kiyoomi’s warlock appears right in front of him, looking as powerful and ominous as ever. With a shaky breath, Atsumu right-clicks on that character, inviting Kiyoomi to a duel. The health bar pops up above the warlock’s head and the battle starts.

It’s obvious that Kiyoomi is an excellent player because he knows how weak the mage class is to close-range attacks. He rolls in a few times to dole out some attacks and is quick enough to dodge out of the way before Atsumu can get a spell in. But the amount of studying that Atsumu has done must be paying off because Kiyoomi’s attack rotations look familiar. Atsumu manages to hit him with a fire blast while Kiyoomi is regenerating his buffs, and slowly, the warlock’s health gauge depletes.

They’re at similar health points by the end of it, and Atsumu feels his heart race, his fingertips cold from the adrenaline. Kiyoomi’s character sprints in and doles out a quick attack before Atsumu can get his shield up and Atsumu curses, clicking furiously as he watches his health bar turn red.

Just as he thinks he’s about to lose, he sees an opening, Kiyoomi’s defense buff running out, and Atsumu moves in.

He lands a fiery blow on the warlock in front of him and then the PvP end screen pops up.

“Holy _shit,”_ Atsumu gasps _._ “I _won!_ ” 

On the screen, his mage is doing a victory dance in front of Kiyoomi’s fallen warlock. 

“Congrats,” Kiyoomi says, his tone not giving anything away.

Atsumu can’t stop laughing, doesn’t know how to contain his glee. He won. He fucking _won_. 

“Oh man, I’m coming for yer throne, kabikiller. If only I streamed this so yer fans could see ya lose to my slutty mage,” he cackles. 

Kiyoomi sighs but doesn’t say anything in return, waiting patiently for Atsumu to finish gloating. That warlock regenerates on the screen.

“I get ta see yer face now,” Atsumu says brightly. “C’mon, turn on yer camera.”

It’s silent and Atsumu starts to think that maybe Kiyoomi’s going to go back on his promise. There’s nothing forcing Kiyoomi to follow through. Would Kiyoomi really do it?

“In person.”

“What?”

“You can see my face in person.”

Atsumu’s chest pounds, the blood rushing to his face. “Y’mean… ya wanna meet up with me?”

“Do you not want to?”

“No! I mean— not _no_ as in, _no_ I’m not gonna meet up with ya, but _no_ as in, _no_ that’s not what I meant— am I makin’ sense right now?”

Kiyoomi lets out a breathy chuckle and Atsumu wonders what it’d be like to hear that in person. 

“Yer in Tokyo, right? Minato?”

“Yes. I can come to you—”

“No, I’ll— I’ll go to ya.” It’d be a good chance to meet up with Bokuto, too. At least there’s more stuff to do and see in Tokyo. 

“I might be able ta come up at the end of the month. Is it— does that work for ya?”

“That works,” is all Kiyoomi says. 

“Then… let’s exchange numbers, yeah? I think it’d be easier for ya to contact me that way.”

Kiyoomi is silent for a minute and Atsumu thinks that maybe he was being too forward. Yeah, it was a little bit more convenient, but for someone like Kiyoomi who had his walls up all the time, this probably wouldn’t be the best idea. In the end, Kiyoomi says a low “sure,” and Atsumu’s shoulders relax.

“What’s yer— actually, let me give ya my number instead.” Atsumu goes onto their voice call and types his number into the chat box. “I’ll just leave it there and if ya wanna text me, that’s cool, and if ya don’t, that’s cool too.”

He doesn’t know what else to say or do, doesn’t want to pressure Kiyoomi into texting him by staying on the call, so he makes up some excuse before logging off. 

It takes about an hour before he receives a message from an unknown number. His heart leaps in his chest when he hears the _ding_ from the notification, and he scrambles for his phone. The text doesn’t say much, not even a “hello”. All it says is “Sakusa Kiyoomi,” but Atsumu still lets out a big, bright smile.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are gonna be a bit slower after this. :( sorry
> 
> thank u for showing my fic a lot of love!! I'm so happy that people are reading it


	4. Chapter 4

Atsumu’s heart is racing. His stomach won’t stop doing the same flips it does when he’s at the doctor’s office, when he’s gripping the arms of the chair while the nurse is humming as she ties a tourniquet around his arm.

He has met Bokuto and Hinata in person before, but something about meeting Kiyoomi is different.

 _Maybe it’s ‘cause Omi-kun saw ya naked_ , his mind supplies helpfully.

This morning, he had spent half an hour picking out his wardrobe only to wear a hoodie in the end. He then spent just as long messing with his hair in the hotel room mirror before rushing to catch the train. Despite it all, he still managed to get to Minato an hour too early. In an effort to kill some time, Atsumu wandered aimlessly around the block, walking into every other store and browsing items that he wasn't gonna buy anyway. Fifteen minutes til, and now he’s here. His heart won’t stop hammering in his chest and he holds his breath whenever he sees a person turn the corner.

The customers inside the cafe keep glancing at him from time to time, watching the way he hops from foot to foot to keep himself warm. He knows they probably think he’s crazy for standing outside in the cold instead of coming in, but he doesn’t want to stay inside like a sitting duck. What if Kiyoomi forgets that they’re meeting? What if he gets _stood up?_

Atsumu doesn’t know if he’s shivering from the nerves or from the cold anymore. With a sigh, he runs his hand through his hair, fixing it in the reflection of the storefront once more. Considering the weather today, there might be no point in styling his hair anyway. The skies are gloomy and gray, the clouds so bloated they look like they might burst. The weather app on his phone was never reliable. He just hopes it’s not an omen for what’s to come.

His phone dings.

 _Here,_ the text says.

Atsumu’s heart leaps to his throat. When he looks up, there’s a figure walking towards him, a tall slim figure wearing a black coat that drapes down past his knees. The man is full of confidence as he walks. He’s wearing a black turtleneck on the inside and black pants that look tailored and expensive, and even though Atsumu knows the guy’s younger than him, he sure doesn’t dress like it.

The man stops in front of him. Even with his black face mask on, he looks handsome. His eyes are dark, the color of burnt coffee, and up close, Atsumu can see two moles dotting his left eyebrow, like constellations on his forehead.

With a start, Atsumu realizes that they’re barely eye level. Shit, Kiyoomi really was taller than him.

_I’m 192. I can try._

He doesn’t know why, but those words choose this time to pop into his head, the echo of Kiyoomi’s voice low and inviting. It makes Atsumu’s throat close up.

“Hey.”

It’s just one word but it still knocks the breath out of Atsumu’s lungs when he hears it. It’s like going from stereo to surround sound, like finally seeing color when his life has only ever been in grayscale.

He’s got it bad.

“Should I not speak?”

Atsumu’s head shoots up and Kiyoomi is looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He’s probably smirking underneath that mask; Atsumu can hear the smirk even if he can’t see it. It makes Atsumu’s cheeks heat up. He’s starting to regret coming all the way to Tokyo.

“Shaddup,” he mutters, shoving his hands inside his pockets.

“Got it. Won’t speak.”

“How’s yer personality even worse in real life?”

Kiyoomi chuckles, the low sort of chuckle that makes Atsumu’s stomach burn, and Atsumu quickly turns away. He clears his throat and says, “Why’s yer mask on? I won.”

It’s silent. Atsumu can’t tell what’s running through Kiyoomi’s mind right now, can’t figure anything out from that gaze. Slowly, Kiyoomi’s hand reaches up, unfastening the mask from one of his ears.

Atsumu swallows from the anticipation.

The mask is peeled off, revealing a tall straight nose and rosy lips with a defined cupid’s bow. Together, all of these features make Kiyoomi look sharp and intimidating, almost cold combined with that pale skin of his. But Atsumu can’t deny that Kiyoomi really was handsome. Fuck, he’s probably one of the hottest guys Atsumu has ever seen.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring open-mouthed until Kiyoomi prods him with a quiet, “So?”

His eyes are probing, and Atsumu thinks that maybe Kiyoomi is just as nervous as him.

“I told ya, yer the hottest salaryman I’ve ever seen,” Atsumu says with a shy laugh.

The slight smile that he gets in return makes the blood buzz in his veins.

The awkwardness melts with every fleeting smile that Kiyoomi sends his way, and even though Atsumu is still hyperconscious of Kiyoomi’s presence next to him, it’s not as uncomfortable as he feared.

Kiyoomi must be a regular here because he discusses the menu with ease. Atsumu was too busy focusing on the pitch and timbre of Kiyoomi’s voice to process the words that he was saying, so when Kiyoomi leads them to the register, Atsumu is still fumbling for words. The cashier girl and Kiyoomi are both waiting for him patiently, and Atsumu can only eek out a “you go first” before he finally takes the menu seriously.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Kiyoomi orders his coffee black. Atsumu can’t suppress the snort when he hears it. Kiyoomi was loyal to his aesthetic through and through. Unlike him, Atsumu orders a vanilla latte and a slice of chocolate cake to go with it, and even though Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows, he doesn’t say anything about it. He just shakes his head lightly before handing his card to the cashier, and Atsumu's mouth drops open when he realizes that Kiyoomi is paying for the both of them. Atsumu squawks, ready to complain, but Kiyoomi cuts him off before he gets the chance to say anything.

“You’re visiting. It’s the least I could do.”

It all just feels like… a date. Kiyoomi is even carrying their tray, acting like the upstanding boyfriend Atsumu didn't expect him to be.

Atsumu shakes himself out of it.

He’s being ridiculous. They’re meeting each other for the first time and Kiyoomi’s just too nice for his own good. Just because Kiyoomi is a handsome guy and paid for him (and saw him naked before) doesn’t mean that this is a _date_.

Atsumu shoves that thought back to the recesses of his mind and distracts himself with food. He’s happily munching on his cake when he suddenly feels the weight of Kiyoomi’s stare. Kiyoomi is looking at him over the rim of his coffee cup, taking all of Atsumu in, and Atsumu’s mind jumps to the memory of that same gaze on the other side of the screen, eyes burning as they traced Atsumu’s naked form.

“Am I diff’rent in person?” Atsumu asks, wiping at his mouth in case he’s got crumbs all over him.

Kiyoomi’s eyes quickly shutter away.

“No, you’re just as annoying as I expected.”

“Ex _cuse_ me!”

Kiyoomi gives him a low chuckle. It’s hard to look away; Kiyoomi’s face transforms when he laughs, sharp edges softened like the corners of a worn book. It makes his chest flutter.

Wouldn’t Kiyoomi be even _more_ popular if he showed his face? What a waste to hide it behind an anime profile picture.

“You’re staring,” Kiyoomi says, folding his arms over his chest.

Atsumu looks away, takes a sip of his latte.

“It’s just different seein’ ya in person, that’s all.”

“I prefer it this way.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s nice…” Atsumu admits, ears reddening as he watches the people around him. There were a lot of couples here today. Even though he keeps telling himself it’s not a date, his mind doesn’t stop toying with that thought.

Atsumu clears his throat.

“So… how’s Choco?”

Surprisingly, they don’t run out of things to talk about. Once Atsumu finally gets over the awkwardness of meeting Kiyoomi in person, he rambles on about his streamer friends and his hometown and the places he wants to check out in Tokyo. His speech is likely just indecipherable nonsense, his Kansai-ben even more pronounced when he’s excited, but it doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi minds because he’s watching Atsumu intently while he talks. Of course, his silence only makes Atsumu talk more.

“Still can’t believe I won,” Atsumu says with a grin, when they’re back on the topic of the PvP match. “I’m gonna tell all of yer subscribers.”

“Go ahead.”

“Can ya at least try ta sound embarrassed about losin’ to me?”

Kiyoomi says back, his voice flat, “Oh no. How did I ever lose.” 

“I didn’t mean like _that_ ,” Atsumu sniffs. “Never mind, jerk.”

Kiyoomi takes a sip of his coffee and Atsumu swears that there’s a goddamn twinkle in his eye.

“So if I lost, does that mean ya’d never show yer face to me?”

Kiyoomi hums.

“I think you would win eventually.”

“Wow. I think… that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”

“No, I mean, you’d be persistent enough to request to fight me again, and I’d purposefully lose at one point because you’d be annoying about it.”

Atsumu gets up dramatically and says, “Goodbye Omi-omi, I’m leavin’ since yer too mean.”

A hand circles around his wrist, pulling Atsumu back down into his seat. Kiyoomi’s eyes are wide, a little bit panicked, and Atsumu wonders if Kiyoomi didn’t get his joke. “If… if I took it too far, I apologize,” he says.

The seriousness in his voice catches Atsumu off guard. It’s relieving to know that Atsumu’s not the only nervous one, that Kiyoomi’s more worried about this encounter than he lets on. The vulnerability makes Atsumu like him even more.

“I was just bein’ dramatic, Omi-kun. I’m not gonna leave.”

On the other side of the table, Kiyoomi visibly relaxes.

“If ya really wanna make it up to me though, I won’t say no to another slice of cake.”

Kiyoomi snorts, but can’t hide the small smile on his face.

“You’re just staying for the free food,” he says.

“And the company!” Atsumu says cheerfully.

Atsumu doesn’t realize how long they’ve been sitting and talking until the string lights flicker on, the cafe interior bathed in a warm glow. It’s sharp contrast from the cold and grayness outside, the rain coming down in sheets, splattering on the sidewalk like ink droplets.

The cafe’s jazzy music drowns out the pitter-patter of rain, but it still looks wet and dreadful outside. A few people are using their hands or jackets to shield their eyes as they rush for shelter, and Atsumu blanches at the thought of walking to the train station in this weather.

“Wasn’t expectin’ Tokyo to be so gloomy durin’ this time. I didn’t bring an umbrella or anything.”

This afternoon, he had walked by dozens of umbrellas in the convenience store but was too lost in his thoughts (too busy thinking about Kiyoomi) to buy a single one.

“Is your hotel far from here?” Kiyoomi asks.

Atsumu frowns.

“I’m stayin’ in Sumida ‘cause I was plannin’ on visiting Bokuto too.”

“Well… my place is about a block from here. If you’d like, you can stay until the rain dies down.”

Atsumu’s mind goes blank. Kiyoomi, who has only three photos on his Instagram account, who has hidden his face for months, is inviting Atsumu into his private space? Did Atsumu hear wrong? Was this… an _invitation_ to something?

Slowly, he says, “If yer willing, I’d… I’d like that.”

Kiyoomi’s apartment is clean and minimal, with just the barest amount of furniture to make it feel lived in. The decor is tasteful despite it being a bachelor pad, nothing like Atsumu’s place with chairs and tables a mismatch of colors. There’s even a houseplant by the sofa, tall enough that its long leaves peek up above the armrest.

At this time, the nervousness sets in again.

Atsumu can’t help but wonder if this is going to lead anywhere, if this meet-up really was a date, and if Kiyoomi plans on making good on his words and fucking him into the bed. Atsumu would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested, but he doesn’t want to count his chickens before they hatch. This is probably just a casual hangout and Atsumu is overthinking it as he’s prone to do. It’s hard not to, especially when his brain keeps on supplying images of that drunken night, his lewd form spreading his legs wide open under Kiyoomi’s heated gaze.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes? You can toss yours in the dryer.”

Kiyoomi is in the middle of hanging his coat up. The turtleneck sticks closely to his skin, his chest and shoulders filling out the shirt too well. Kiyoomi really does work out. His body is built like an athlete’s and the way his torso tapers down into a V shape makes Atsumu’s mouth go dry. He can’t stop staring.

When Atsumu flickers his eyes back up, Kiyoomi’s eyebrow is quirked like he’s been waiting for a response.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Kiyoomi says again, trying to hold back a laugh, “Did you want to borrow some clothes?”

“Oh, uh… sure.”

“I’ll go find you some then. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Kiyoomi disappears into his room and Atsumu slaps himself on the cheeks, trying to pull himself together. With a sigh, he pulls off his hoodie, the fabric scratchy and uncomfortable, sticking to his skin from the rain. He doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t want to plop it on Kiyoomi’s nice couch and get it all wet. After hemming and hawing for a while, he tosses the hoodie to the ground before taking off his jeans too.

And that’s how Kiyoomi finds him, foot still caught on the leg of his jeans, boxer-briefs on display. Kiyoomi coughs and says, “These are for you. We seem to be the same size so I’m sure they’ll fit.”

He leaves a warm sweater and some sweatpants on the corner of the couch, and Atsumu turns to thank him only to catch Kiyoomi whip his head away like he’s been caught looking. Atsumu can feel his ears reddening. Thank god he wore nice underwear today—he planned for it just in case he gets lucky. If Kiyoomi saw him in his usual fox print boxer shorts, he would have died.

Atsumu pulls on the sweater ( _designer_ , he notices from the tag)and tugs on the sweats too, taking care to fold his damp clothes nicely so that Kiyoomi doesn’t think he’s some slob. Kiyoomi comes back with some bottled water, not handing it to Atsumu directly but leaving it on the coffee table. He still doesn’t look Atsumu in the eye.

“I’ll put these in the dryer,” he says, grabbing Atsumu’s clothes off of the rug.

Atsumu barely manages to muster an “o-oh, thanks,” to which he gets a grunt in return before Kiyoomi disappears from the living room.

He didn’t expect Kiyoomi to be such a gracious host. This is the first time they’ve met in person and Kiyoomi even let him borrow his (nice!) clothes.

Without thinking, he lifts the collar of the sweater up to his nose, too curious for his own good. The scent was warm and inviting, different from the fabric softener that he uses at home. 

Fuck, what the hell was he doing?

Suddenly, Atsumu becomes too aware of the space he’s occupying. Kiyoomi is still not back yet and Atsumu is feeling like a giant stuffed into a doll house. He gingerly sits down in the corner of the couch, glancing around the room like he’s at the zoo. When Kiyoomi finally comes back, Atsumu is busy studying the leaves of Kiyoomi’s house plant.

“Is my plant that interesting?”

“Sorry! I jus’ didn’t wanna make myself too at home.”

“It’s fine,” Kiyoomi says with a bit of a laugh. “I don’t mind.”

Atsumu watches him putter to the kitchen, unable to take his eyes off of the way the black fabric of Kiyoomi’s shirt sticks to his shoulder blades as he rummages through the cupboards.

“It’s almost dinnertime. Are you full off of chocolate cake or did you want something to eat?”

“I could always eat,” Atsumu says. “Haven’t ya seen ‘Samu’s stream? The bottomless stomach runs in the fam’ly.”

Kiyoomi snorts.

“I don’t have that much here but we can get delivery.”

Atsumu frowns.

“I feel kinda bad makin’ the delivery person go out in the rain though.”

Their eyes meet and Atsumu can’t help but look away, Kiyoomi’s gaze too intense, as though Atsumu’s a lock he’s trying to pick.

“You seem to think you’re an asshole but you’re actually quite considerate,” Kiyoomi says.

Atsumu is struck speechless. As soon as he’s able to gather his thoughts, he shoots back, “Anyone would seem nice compared to an asshole like you, Omi-kun.”

“For someone who likes being praised, you sure don’t take compliments well.”

He can feel his cheeks start to flush so he quickly changes the subject. “Anyway, I’m okay with eatin’ anything as long as we get ta stay in.”

Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows. “So you’re okay with coming all the way to Tokyo to eat cup noodles?”

Atsumu can’t help but laugh. Even a rich guy like Kiyoomi eats cup noodles. That’s somehow reassuring.

“Depends on what flavor ya have.”

Kiyoomi turns back to look at his cupboards and then says, “Seafood, curry, and chicken. Take your pick.”

“Seafood then,” Atsumu says with a wide grin.

“Good choice.”

It’s just cup noodles, the kind that he buys for himself at home, the kind that he eats when it’s 1 A.M. and he’s too lazy to make anything else. But for some reason, it’s the best thing he’s had all week. Maybe it’s because he’s more starving than he expected, or maybe it’s because the hot, salty taste of the ramen warms his stomach from the inside. Or, maybe, it’s the company.

He peeks up, watching Kiyoomi eat his noodles, those chopsticks grasped in his right hand, long fingers holding them in perfect form. Even his eating manners were impeccable. Atsumu reminds himself to eat a little bit slower.

“By the way, ‘s it okay ta see yer set-up?”

Kiyoomi’s eyebrows furrow and Atsumu thinks about taking back his question but Kiyoomi quickly says, “It’s fine. Are you done, by the way?”

Atsumu nods, pushing his cup noodles to the side, and Kiyoomi stands up, clearing both of their noodles away. When he comes back to the living room, he jerks his head towards the hallway.

“Follow.”

Atsumu quickly gets up, scared that Kiyoomi’s going to change his mind.

He expects to see Kiyoomi’s bedroom but the door that opens up leads to a space that looks like a walk-in closet modified to be a home office. There’s no bed in sight; just a desk and a bookshelf. Atsumu is slightly disappointed—not because he’s trying to take Kiyoomi to bed (not so soon after eating at least), but because he was excited to see Kiyoomi’s private space. This wasn't quite the same, but Atsumu is happy to see the set-up either way.

“Red LED lights, eh Omi-kun? How fancy.”

He sits down on Kiyoomi’s chair and taps on the keyboard to test the spring of the keys. Everything in the room was black and red, his gaming chair included.

“Let me guess. Yours is a rainbow.”

“Damn right it is,” Atsumu says with a grin.

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but he has a slight smile on his lips.

All of a sudden, an idea comes to him.

“Hey Omi-kun.”

Atsumu spins in the chair, turning to where Kiyoomi is leaning against the doorway. Atsumu’s eyes are sparkling. The look he has on his face is the kind of look that Osamu hates the most, the kind that makes Osamu ask with exasperation, “What’re ya up to now?”

With a wide grin, Atsumu asks, “Would ya let stream on yer account?”

Kiyoomi’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms defensively. Even in Atsumu’s overexcited state, he doesn’t fail to notice the way the pose makes Kiyoomi’s arms look bigger, the sleeves tight against his biceps.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I jus’ wanna give yer fans a little treat!” Atsumu says innocently.

“You mean you’re going to troll them,” Kiyoomi deadpans.

“They’ll be happy ta see my face!”

Kiyoomi sighs.

“You’re going to make me lose all of my subscribers.”

“No I’m not! I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I jus’ wanted ta have some fun.” He doesn’t want to say that it’s just a way for him to show off. He wants everybody to know that Atsumu, and _only_ Atsumu, knows what kabikiller looks like. Even the gold plaque he got from [haikyuu.tv](http://haikyuu.tv) wasn’t much of a trophy compared to this. 

Kiyoomi searches his face for a minute but in the end, he says, “Do what you like.”

Atsumu grins, big and bright, and Kiyoomi looks the other way.

“Do you want tea or water?”

“Some tea would be nice. Thanks, Omi-kun!”

Kiyoomi quickly leaves for the kitchen, and Atsumu spins back around to face the monitor. He shakes the gaming mouse which jolts the computer awake, and then opens up the internet browser. [haikyuu.tv](http://haikyuu.tv) autofills in the search bar, and Atsumu is already giddy just from seeing it pop up, nearly bouncing in his chair at the thought of showing his face on Kiyoomi’s stream. The website loads immediately, autoplaying one of Kenma’s videos that is highlighted on the home page, but Atsumu ignores it in favor of starting his own stream.

But when he clicks on the user profile in order to broadcast, the username that’s logged in isn’t kabikiller.

It’s sk96320.

It’s a username that Atsumu would recognize anywhere; it’s the username that he’s seen on his account regularly over these past few years.

The sight of it hits him like a hard punch to the stomach.

Atsumu’s hands are clammy, trembling as he clicks on the details of the account. The profile is blank, but the videos that are favorited are all Atsumu’s. And when he clicks on the transaction history tab, there's a long log with balloons sent to “foxymiya”, the list so long, he has to scroll down for a whole minute just to see the end of it. _I started streaming because of a streamer I watched._ That sentence blares in his head and Atsumu lets out a shaky breath.

His chest won’t stop pounding.

Kiyoomi was sk96320? Kiyoomi has been watching him all this time?

He still can’t wrap his mind around it. Doesn’t know how to react. His skin is tingling all over, fingers feeling like static. He thinks he might be seeing things; he keeps on reading that username over and over like it’s some kanji that he doesn’t recognize, like he expects it to morph into something else the minute he looks away. He just can’t believe it.

Kiyoomi is sk96320.

Kiyoomi has spent a _shit_ ton of money on him.

Kiyoomi has known him _all this time_.

But something just doesn’t make sense. If Kiyoomi was a fan, then why was it Atsumu who pushed them to stream together? It was Atsumu who wanted them to meet. It was Atsumu who pestered Kiyoomi 24/7.

If Atsumu wasn’t the first one to reach out, then maybe they wouldn’t have talked at all. Was Kiyoomi really okay with that?

“You didn’t start the stream yet?”

His body stiffens. Atsumu wants to say something but his mouth keeps opening and closing like he’s a codfish, the words lost on him. He can only stare as Kiyoomi walks up to him, and even though he wants to quickly exit out of the browser, his hands won’t listen to him, still glued to the mouse.

A mug is placed on the desk and Kiyoomi sneaks a glance at the screen. His face quickly transforms from curiosity to realization to horror.

“ _Shit_.”

Atsumu is still staring at him.

“Look, I- I can explain.”

“Omi-kun. You’re—”

“Hold on. Stop right there.”

Atsumu quickly clamps his mouth shut.

“Listen,” he says, grimacing as though he’s in pain.

Kiyoomi is telling him to listen but he doesn’t say anything else yet. His brows are furrowed, his gaze turned to the wall as though he’s hoping some words would be written there. After gathering his thoughts, he continues.

“I’ve watched you since I was in high school. I play volleyball so I used to follow your volleyball stuff, and… I’ve watched you ever since. I didn’t start streaming for a malicious reason, alright? I would’ve been fine if we never met, so please don’t think that I’ve been stalking you because it’s nothing like that. I just…” 

“Shit. Look. I just—” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I liked watching your content.”

While Kiyoomi rambles, Atsumu is busy staring at his hands, his cheeks reddening the more Kiyoomi talks, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. This is the most Kiyoomi has ever said in one breath and any other time Atsumu would have made fun of him for it, but Atsumu is so flustered that his usual snapbacks don’t come to mind.

It makes sense for Kiyoomi to be the embarrassed one but how come Atsumu’s the one who feels so mortified he could die? Sakusa Kiyoomi, with his honeyed voice and 1.1M followers and striking looks, has been following Atsumu ever since he started his Youtube channel. He’s been there for the clumsy guitar covers, the awkward jokes, and the bad haircuts. He’s been there for the deleted videos and the hastily uploaded and taken down “STORY TIME: My Twin is Adopted”. And he was there when Atsumu stripped himself naked and got off on screen. Atsumu has never felt so exposed and vulnerable and _seen_ in this moment, like an egg that has been cracked open before it could hatch.

But even so, a part of him feels touched.

He’s been part of this stranger’s life for so long.

From the beginning, with his ten mere followers, Kiyoomi was there. Now, with his 1 million followers, Kiyoomi was still there. With every balloon that he sent, it was like he was saying, “thank you for existing.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, I get it. The rain should be stopping soon so I can call you a cab.”

Kiyoomi’s voice sounds more timid than Atsumu has ever heard it and Atsumu rushes to respond.

“No! It’s just…” He hides his face in his hands. “Sorry, I’m kinda overwhelmed right now. I mean… _god,_ Omi-kun. Ya saw a lot of my bad moments,” he says with a nervous laugh.

“Good ones too.”

“Okay, let’s just— let’s just drop this ‘cause I’m sure we both wanna die right now.”

Kiyoomi grunts in agreement.

“But… Omi-kun. How much money did ya spend on me? 'Cause holy shit—” He quickly changes the subject when he sees Kiyoomi’s withering look. “—sorry, droppin’ it. Not gonna talk about it ever again.” He makes a motion with his hands as though he’s zipping his lips shut.

“Move,” Kiyoomi then says.

Atsumu uses his heels to roll the chair away from the desk, and Kiyoomi takes over the computer. With a few clicks, he signs out of his account and logs back in with “kabikiller”.

“I’ll let my subscribers know that I’ll be streaming in about five minutes. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be in the other room.”

He leaves the room without saying anything else and Atsumu is left staring at the monitor.

Five minutes isn’t enough time for his brain to start working again and he’s not in the mood to stream anymore. He just can’t stop thinking about Kiyoomi, can’t stop thinking about sk96320, and he doesn’t want to cheapen the moment by showing himself off to Kiyoomi’s subscribers. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do, but he knows he doesn’t want to stream at this moment.

He rushes out of the room and Kiyoomi is standing in the middle of the living room, one hand on his phone, likely in the middle of posting to his subscribers.

“Omi-kun, hold on, ‘m not— I don’t really wanna stream anymore,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

The phone is slowly placed on the table and Atsumu sneaks a look but can’t make anything out of the expression that Kiyoomi has on his face. It’s unimaginably awkward; the two of them still stuck in their own heads, unable to get past the previous incident.

Atsumu is thinking to himself that it’s better to go back to the hotel at this point.

“Um,” he starts off eloquently. “It’s… gettin’ kinda late and I don’t wanna intrude on ya for much longer so… I might head out.”

Kiyoomi looks a little bit crest fallen and Atsumu rushes to say, “It’s only ‘cause I’m meetin’ with Bokuto early in the mornin’ and I think the train might stop runnin’ soon. I actually had a lot of fun t’day. Honest.”

He's not sure if he's just imagining it or not, but the tension inKiyoomi’s shoulders seems to ease, just a bit.

“So… I’m gonna… go head out now.”

He heads towards the door before he hears Kiyoomi’s gruff voice saying, “Your clothes are still in the dryer.”

He looks down, sees the clothes that he has on that are _definitely_ not his.

“Oh. Uh. Right. Um… actually, if yer free tomorrow, I was gonna ask ya to go souvenir shopping with me. And maybe get some dinner. And then I can head to yer place after and grab my clothes. But that’s— only if yer free. I know yer probly a busy guy, so…” God, he’s practically squirming where he’s standing, he can feel his face burn now that he’s finally aware of the way he’s rambling. Fortunately, Kiyoomi doesn’t look turned off. He has on a faint smile that’s gone as quickly as it appeared. Atsumu's starting to wonder if he actually saw it in the first place.

“I’m free,” Kiyoomi says.

“Nice, I’ll… text ya tomorrow then?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Atsumu nods and hurries to leave, nearly tripping on his feet on the way out the door. His heart is still pounding on the way back to the hotel, and that night, he gets no sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for still reading!! there are two chapters left but the next two chapters will be much longer than this one, so pls don't be sad that everything will be ending so soon!!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/miyacatsumu)


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